Il mio cuore è per voi
by Rae-chan33
Summary: My heart is for you' Looking into the day the Sky died, from every Guardian and Vongolian's point of view. ALL27, some pairings romance, some friendship, all angst
1. Rokudou Mukurou

**I wrote this at like, 4:00 in the morning while laying in bed thinking about KHR.**

**Sleep is important, apparently... maybe that would explain why this is only about 16-hundred word count  
**

* * *

Mukurou drummed his fingers against the dark cherrywood armrest of his polished leather chair. The amused smirk that was usually painted on his face was currently replaced with a distinct frown. He glared at the double doors of his office, as if blaming them for his disposition.

"Mukurou-sama..." came the voice of one of his three closest associates, Joushima Ken. "I'm sure his meeting is just taking longer then he thought it would, byan." the blond reasoned, fiddling with his bobby-pinned bangs. Kakimoto Chikusa, who sat quietly next to Ken on the windowsill, nodded his head in agreement.

Mukurou drummed his fingers especially hard, mismatched eyes narrowing.

"For Tsunayoshi's sake that had better be the reason." the Mist guardian uttered forebordingly. Ken glanced at Chikusa, who subtly checked his Rolex.

Mukurou stood up from his throne-like chair to start pacing back and forth on the persian rug, his long ponytail swaying in his wake.

"I clearly said at 4:30 this evening sharp, did I not? Chikusa, what time is it?" he asked, stopping to look over at the glasses wearing man.

"5:42 pm, sir."

Mukurou's pacing resumed, his glare at nothing intensified.

"And hour and twelve minutes he's late! Inexcusable, I'll have to make sure he's punished quite severely for this." the Illusionist muttered, words trailing off in mumbled Italian. Ken stretched his arms up, baring his overly sharp teeth in a wide yawn.

"Naa, Dokuro went to that meeting didn't she? Call her cell phone, byan." he offered. Mukurou stopped pacing once again, blinking.

"Chrome went? Why didn't she tell me?" he asked, seemingly agahst. Chikusa pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.

"She did tell you, though I believe at the time you were focused on the Vongola across the lawn." he replied. Mukurou wasted no time whipping out his cell phone and pressing speed-dial. His loyal subordinates looked on as their boss's hopefully dangerous smirk faded back into a glare as he slapped his phone shut.

"She's got it off!! Why has she got it off?!" he demanded incredulously, gripping the device hard enough to extract creaking from the protesting plastic. Ken frowned.

"That's not like her at all, byan. She'd sooner gouge out her only good eye before ignoring Mukurou-sama." he said. Mukurou threw his phone into the fireplace and headed to the door.

"Enough of this nonsense, I'll find Tsunayoshi myself. And make him very sorry when I do." he seethed, slamming the heavy wooden doors shut behind him.

Ken and Chikusa glanced at one another.

"Over attachment..." Chikusa observed, Ken just sticking out his tongue in a wide toothed grin.

-

Mukurou's polished leather boots clacked against the pale pink marble flooring of the Vongola Mansion's Forth Wing Corridor, the Mist Guardian set on his way to the house's main entrance.

What Rokudou Mukurou hated moer then the Mafia, more then prison, and more then Hibari Kyouya, was being ignored even the slightest bit by Sawada Tsunayoshi. Not that it happened often, oh no, Mukurou would not allow himself to be ignored.

He purposely made sure to set up meetings with the meek Mafia boss as least every other day. In fact, Mukurou was _supposed _to go with him to whatever meeting had been taking place, but Tsuna had waved him off, agreeing to meet with him personally after 'the boring stuff was out of the way'.

_'And the little tart dared to skip out on me!' _Mukurou thought furiously as he crossed into the main lobby of the vast entrance way. He made it about halfway to the door before he slowed, and abruptly turned around to face the way he came.

The main double doors of the mansion were open, he could tell from the echoing sound of rain pouring out over the grounds outside. He knew this, though he wasn't looking in that direction.

"Mu... Mukurou...sama..."

The illusionist didn't turn even at the voice of his female counterpart. His eyes were wide, staring away from the main entrance. He ignored Chrome's small voice behind him.

"Mukurou-sama...!"

He could hear the gasping strain in her voice, which he knew was the tone she often had when she cried. Mukurou tilted his head down, eyes darting to his shoes, but still refused to turn back around.

_'That sort of thing... it is absolutely not the case...'_

He stumbled slightly, only just catching himself as Chrome's small frame collided with his back, her face burrowing against his shoulder blades.

She smelt of blood. Blood and gunpowder. He could see through his bangs that the thin hands that clutched his jacket and shirt were stained a reddish brown. She was gasping out words between her massive sob; Italian words, twisted from her natural Japanese accent.

"Mi... Millifiore...!!" she stuttered helplessly against his spine. Mukurou's fingers twitched.

"I wont say turn around, Mukurou... But you know already. I know you already know..."

The Vongola's Rain Guardian sounded far older then Mukurou recalled him being. His voice was rough and worn; he'd been shouting recently. Screaming.

Mukurou's boot shifted, turning so slowly on its heel. Even slower, his body followed suit, but not his eyes. The remained averted.

He could smell the blood.

"It was a trap. The Millifiore... Byakuran set up a trap for him... He didn't think that they would... Of course_ he_ wouldn't be suspicious of someone he was only just meeting... But they... He..." The swordsman trailed off, and Mukurou could hear his throat closing up. The sound of a strong man weeping.

"Mukurou-sama...! He protected us! He protected all of us, but not himself! He...! He didn't even _try_!!" Chrome cried, collapsing onto her knees, hands covering her face. Mukurou's eyes fought his own desires, and against his will they slid over to just beyond the double doors.

Hibari Kyouya was standing in the farthest corner, messy bangs shadowing his eyes and hands gripping tightly at his biceps while he crossed them.

Yamamamoto was still leaning against the wall to support his body while he hid his crying face.

Gokudera Hayato wasn't even in the house; he knelled outside in the downpour, upper body streached out on the cement stairs, allowing himself to be drowned slowly by the falling rain.

There were thick trails of blood smeared across the floor leading to each present Guardian, each of their wound-less bodies covered in the dark red.

All this... But Tsuna was not among them.

Tsuna hadn't come back.

"He's dead." Hibari stated flatly, his tone never more empty then when it had left his lips with those words. The words that made the whispers in Mukurou's head become reality. The words that made the kanji for 'six' spin, and the number four blooming in its wake, awash in the sea of red.

He didn't recall a time when the Cloud Guardian and himself had fought so wildly. Technique, weapons,a nd insults forgotten from pure crazed insistence and denial.

Mukurou would kill Hibari Kyouya with his own hands. That would _prove _that what the man had said was a lie. If he killed him, the blood would disappear. The rain would cease and clouds would part and there would be a blue sky again.

But as the two crashed into antique tables, destroyed whole walls and staircase banisters, nothing was changing.

Chrome continued to sob, wrapped into the chests of her silent Kokuyou partners. Yamamoto had sunk down to the floor, large blood drenched hands still covering his face as his chest convulsed after every inhaled breath. And outside, Gokureda continued to let the rain swallow him up, outstretched arms being washed of the blood drop by drop.

* * *

-

-

"We got a message from the Vongola base over in Namimori."

Mismatched eyes lazily slid over to the speaker.

"Oya..? Wha is it this time..."

The spiky blond haired man pushed a file towards his boss, his green eyes averting nervously.

"Mukurou-sama... about this, you..."

But Mukurou had already seen the picture attachment. He was already staring at big naive copper eyes that stared past whatever camera had taken the surveillance shot, a mop of chestnut brown spikes and a familiar 'lucky orange jaket' was all Mukurou needed to see.

His gloved hand moved to the main memo, and he raised a dark eyebrow at its message.

**'****Sawada Tsunayoshi has returned from the past. Gather the Guardians.'  
**

Ken shifted back next to Chikusa and Chrome, eyes darting, unsure of what would happen now. Chrome blinked her only exposed eye, fiddling with her long ponytail.

"Mukurou-sama... What will we do?" she asked softly, testing the waters. It had never, _never _been wise to even mention the person Mukurou had lived for most in the world.

The Italian illusionist drummed his fingers against the hardwood of his desk, lips curling into a smirk that had once been amused, but was now something to be feared among all else.

_Dangerous... this is dangerous..._

"Return a favor to the Millifiore. Protect the Sky with all the power of the Mist."

Mismatched eyes fixed upon the boy in the photograph.

_I will not forgive you... for leaving me to wait for you to come back._

* * *

**Possibly one of a multi-chaptered set, each one set with a different Guardian reaction to Tsuna's assasination.**

**-Rae**


	2. Lambo Bovino

**I chose this character as the next Chapter's main lead because I feel like no one really thinks about how he handled Tsuna's death. So I wrote what I think is a possible path things happened on.**

 **I really wanted to know how this character handled the news.. I'm sorry if you were expecting someone else, I'll get to everyone eventually, dont worry. **

* * *

Lambo kicked the wall of his bedroom, the one eye he had open glared out his window and out over the dull rain slicked courtyard. This untimely rain falling down on the Bovino mansion did nothing to improve his mood, nor had it since it started two days ago.

"They should all be back by now, but I haven't heard from anyone..." the youngest of the Vongola Guardians muttered, crossing his arms over his cow-printed chest. He sighed, turning away from the window and head out of his large bedroom, hands now stuffed in his khaki trousers.

As Lambo entered the main hallway, he was met with an odd silence. This itself was strange, as the Bovino famigila was known for having loud, boisterous members and sudden unnecessary parties on occasions. Yet, still, as the young hit man strolled through the halls, he noted that he wasn't coming across nearly as many people as he would normally. Those he did see gave him an odd look, with furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips, but they all quickly turned away.

Lambo frowned himself; all his life he hated when he was ignored.

The Italian youth dragged his feet heavily into the kitchen where he poured himself a glass of milk. He often found himself doing this whenever he had things on his mind. He recalled the time a few months ago when his five-year-old self had shot him into the past, and he found himself drinking a glass of milk in Tsuna's dining room, even having a chat with the 14-year old Vongola about the ring battle.

"Stupid Tsuna..." he mumbled, propping his head up on an open palm and fixing his one-eyed glare on the milk carton.

About three days previous, Lambo has been at the Vongola Mansion, joking around and hanging out with the Tenth Generation Boss. Tsuna has an air about him at the time that Lambo had thought was a little 'off', as far as Tsuna's air goes. His honey-brown eyes had seemed to drift off every now and then, leaving the younger boy to repeatedly call attention back to whatever they were talking about.

Lambo figured it was because his Boss was preparing for the upcoming meeting with another Mafia syndicate, in which he himself was proudly going to attend as one of the Guardians. He had been waiting for a very long time for his abilities as a hit man to progress far enough that he could be trusted at the side of Vongola's 10th Don. And yet, just before the four other Guardian's arrived per schedule, Tsuna ordered him to go _back _to the Bovino estate.

Thus was the reason for his current uncharacteristic sullied disposition.

"I'm not a little kid anymore...!" he insisted irritably to himself, clutching his milk-glass tightly.

He didn't like it when his 'pal Tsuna' switched over to 'Vongola Boss' mode. Even then, when Tsuna told him he couldn't go to the Mafioso meeting, he stepped away from 'Dame Tsuna', had hardened his eyes and _ordered_ Lambo. True, right before he left the mansion he gave a bright smile and told him '_Arrivederci_' with that unsteady, thick Japanese accent that often comically distorted his attempts at Italian speech.

Sighing, the Thunder Guardian stood, bringing his half-empty glass to the sink and dumping it down the drain. He stared down with a slight pout as the milk swirled against the stainless steel basin, coating everything in a mist of white.

_"Gah! Lambo! Don't waste food! Don't you know Japan is in a rescission?! Think of the economy! The economy!"_

Lambo fought very hard to retain his disgruntled frown, but it was difficult when he was recalling fond memories back in his childhood. Back when Tsuna was just 'Tsuna', and wasn't someone he held such extreme respect for.

Such thoughts were troubling, as they were things he looked back on when he wanted to keep high spirits; these sorts of memories weren't suited for staying mad at someone. Sometimes it was annoying that he never could seem to stay mad at that air-headed Boss of his.

"Lambo...?"

A man ducked his head around the kitchen doorway, heavy sunglasses hiding his eyes and pitch black suit screaming 'mafia'. Lambo gave a 'Hm' in question, not recognizing the man enough to be on friendlier terms.

"You have a visitor, in the Boss's office..." the nameless mafioso said, promptly turning and rushing away before anymore could be said.

The Thunder Guardian frowned, shrugging as he made his way back into the maze-like hallways, up a few flights of stairs to his destination.

A visitor couldn't mean a whole lot of people. The most likely explanation was that Tsuna came to take him out (a possibility he was hoping for, but wasn't going to let it show). Had Tsuna come, the Bovino Boss would most likely have rounded him up into a conversation and wasn't letting him go that easily; this had happened before, Tsuna later telling Lambo that he needed a cell phone so they could just meet up somewhere_._

Lambo smiled fondly, knowing that's how he had gotten his first cellphone a few years back, along with Tsuna lecturing him on taking care of electronics. A few months later, Tsuna had given him his _second _cellphone, this one coupled with an exasperated pair of amber eyes and a sighing smile.

_"I'm always going to have to look after you, aren't I?"_

Thinking back on it now, Lambo decided that the first thing _he'd_ give to Dame-Tsuna when he pulled open the doors in front of him that would lead him into his Famigila Boss's office, was a smack over that spiky brown head. Vongola Don or not, he'd have Tsuna apologize for leaving him behind for seemingly no reason.

"Yare, yare, Tsuna. Prepare to pay for ignori-"

Lambo frowned, glared, then sighed in aggravation, staring not at the short stature of his (beloved) Boss, but the shoulder blades of 'The World's Best Hitman'.

Reborn, who's body had only recently begun to grow at an exponentially rapid rate (about 25 years worth in as little as six months), stood staring out the large bay window, hands stuffed in his pants pockets, shoulders back and spine straight.

His usually perfect posture was slumped foreward, and his trademarked unwrinkled black Armani suit was a bit disheveled; highly unusual for the Walking Perfection that was Reborn. Leon the chameleon, who apparently was of the Parson's species, had grown to three feet and seemed more at home on his owner's new broad shoulders then his old position on his hat.

"What are _you _doing here?" Lambo inquired rudely, letting his distaste for the now older man clearly show. Reborn said nothing, just continued to stare out into the rain with his dark eyes hidden under the brim of his tilted fedora. The Bovino youth made a 'tsk' of frustration.

He didn't care that the the man had reportedly become sick lately. In fact he quite enjoyed hearing about something that showed a weakness in Reborn's overly powerful body. He most likely caught it from Colonello or Lal Mirch, both of whom apparently were feeling under the weather as well. Despite this, Lambo had every intention of taking advantage of the sudden change in the man he had one day sworn to kill.

"Alright, its your own fault if you underestimate me in _my _house!" he warned loudly, reaching behind him for anything on the wide oak desk for anything he could throw. Luck would have it his fingers found a stray letter-opener among the cluttered paperwork. With a determined flourish, he took aim and threw, lips upturned in a triumphant smirk.

As though batting away a troublesome fly, Reborn caught the sharp projectile with a sweep of his hand; dark eyes never leaving the window.

Lambo instantly braced himself for the reciprocation, but none came. Slowly, and every cell in his body at attention, he lowered his arms away from his face, green eyes blinking questioningly at the unmoving hit man.

Reborn finally switched his gaze to the floor, dropping the letter opener to the hardwood floor with a dull clatter.

"Now isn't the time, Lambo." he said, his voice a deep baritone, a complete contrast to the past. The Thunder Guardian drew back, eyes wide in surprise.

"You... you said my name..." Lambo muttered, feeling something cold and unpleasant ahurn in his stomach. He didn't like this situation. Maybe being around Tsuna for so many years had caused some of the Vongola intuition to rub off on him, he figured, as the crawling feeling of 'something is not right' covered every inch of his skin.

"Reborn!" his voice was suddenly more panicked, almost verging on the edge of 'fearful'. "Reborn, let me go back to Tsuna's place. He told me I could once he came back, so let me go back with you. That's why you're here isn't it?!"

Reborn went to stare out of the window again, and remained silent. Lambo gritted his teeth, finger itching for the two brass horns tucked away in the breast-pocket of his jacket.

"Reborn!!"

Still, he was ignored. It bothered him more then it usually did. Maybe it was because the circumstances are different. Reborn came to _his _home; called him out especially. Any yet he continued to ignore him, and act so strangely at the same time.

'_Damnit!'_

He stomped over, and surprisingly, was able to fill his fists with the taller man's suit jacket. It was a shock down Lambo's spine; he never, ever been close enough to touch even a single hair on the Hit man's head. Now here he was, gripping two hand fulls of the precious Armani suit, and he couldn't appreciate it at all. Because Reborn's eyes stared past the oddly paniking youth; he may as well have not even been there. And for Lambo, the intense feeling of unease clawed at him deeper and deeper.

And then...

"Tsuna is dead."

And then, Lambo Bovino was a 5 year old child in a teenager's body, the air around him cold, and his heart tightening.

"Wha... what...?"

Reborn's response was a moment of silence, followed by a great fit of coughs bad enough that blood appeared in his hand. Lambo didn't care. He couldn't. He knew that Reborn wasn't lying.

It was then, that the tears finaly began rushing endlessly down his face.

* * *

There was chaos all around him, that much he was able to register.

"This way! Hurry!"

I-pin was rushing along beside him, the two girls at her side and her injury gushing more and more blood. An explosion of flames sent dust and debri into the air, and Lambo screeched to a halt, feeling panic build up in his chest.

I-pin, in her usual way, took charge.

"Lambo! Calm down! I'll leave Kyouko and Haru to you!" she said, stepping foreward to face the enemy Black Spell.  Lambo turned, agahst at the idea.

"You can't when you're in that condition!" he pleaded, but to little result as the fight continued on regardless. But the loud teenager with the long purple hair moved past them, shouting about someone in the shadows.

Lambo's heart jumped, hoping it was a Guardian, and by some magical prophecy, indeed it was Yamamoto with his sword drawn and eyes burning.

"Is everyone okay?!" a young voice shouted, a voice that sent a chill along Lambo's spine.

Surely, he was mistaken. That wasn't him. That child running up to him like so much concerned innocence was him...

"V-Vongola...?!" the name left his lips in place of the other. Lambo wouldnt allow himself to say the other name. His Boss' first name.

"Gokudera-san!" he had followed up with that man, who seemed to be younger, but he spent little surprise on the man he'd seen frequently after... that day.

 "You see? I told you Tsuna would come for us!" Haru said with such confidence, striding foreward. Lambo felt sad for both girls he'd gone to retrieve hours ago. Haru and Kyouko(who seemed to have taken it upon herself to go run off while on a battlefeild) both had been told of Tsuna's death, but seemed to convince themselves it wasn't true. They'd even seen the body of the 10 Generation boss, and many pleaded with them to realize the truth lest their hope only hurt those who were suffering the most.

Yamamoto sent Tsuna off to go retrieve the missing Kyouko, something Lambo didn't think any of the Guardian's would be able to do. Tsuna was there, somehow, it was him, and so easily Yamamoto sent him off to go after a girl who was always running off and getting herself and others into trouble?

"I wont let you go!" the larger of the two Black Spells shouted, sending his deadly syth to Tsuna's feet and sending him crashing through a storehouse widow.

I-pin grabbed the back of Lambo's jacket as his feet had moved instinctivly in his Boss's direction, her dark eyes fixed into his green.

I-pin had always known the feelings Lambo had even when he tried hiding them. She knew even now that even though he wanted to see their old Boss again, he had to stay here and protect a girl that was too crazed with grief to even understand that the boy she'd 'loved' had died and was now back (and now running off in such a dangerous new place).

 But then, just as he lost sight of the man who'd gone after Tsuna's trail, there was a gush of pink smoke, and was removed from this tragic world.

* * *

**Lambo edition: complete**

**Next up: Yamamoto**


	3. Yamamoto Takeshi

**I chose to depict this character's reaction next because he must have felt very troubled. I admit that I really over-romaticised him in this chapter, but it can't be helped since this is just how I see things. I know he'd probably not feel the things I make him in this, but I felt it would make for a stronger story body.**

**please enjoy it anyway**

* * *

When people think of Yamamoto Takeshi, most would say 'what a reliable guy, always upbeat and there when you need him'. The Guardian who could always smile. A baseball-nut and ever the optimist.

No one really recalls the day he stared down at Namimori middle school's campus, a croud at his back and his arm in a sling. No one remembers that on that day ten years ago, he had full intention of ending his own life.

But Tsuna had saved him that day, just as he had saved him hours ago.

Yamamoto pulled his hands away from his face. They were thick and sticky with rehydrated blood, and they shook uncontrolably. Every part of his body shook. The roar of rain falling outside was deffening in his ears, each drop joining millions of others to bring a crushing thunder to the undulating atmosphere.

He knew Gokudera was still outside, that the man had barely made it out of the car they'd come back in, but he couldn't find it in him at that moment to care. The truth of it all; of the blood caking his hands and suit, the blurs or ring-flames as the Mist and Cloud fought around him, all of it. It was just as Hibari had said, it was the unavoidable.

Tsuna was dead.

A rolling shudder of misery pulled tight at the Rain Guardian's chest, and he tried as best he could to curl into himself on the marble floor. His body was too tall, arms too strong and legs too long for the comforting embrace he'd done as a child years and years ago.

He tried to block it out; the images of white pinstripe soaking up more and more blood. Tsuna's thin hands shaking slightly as they were clutched in Gokudera's and his own pleading grip.

He didn't know if he had ever cried so intensly in his entire life, nor if he ever could again. Perhaps his heart would harden against the tears, like torn skin healed over in tougher, caloused scar tissue that was far more difficult to penetrate.

Tsuna was gone, and the world seemed so much more cruel. Being in the mafia was something Yamamoto had never really thought deeply about. To him, it was just ensuring he'd get to stay friends with everyone he'd formed connections with throughout his life. A way they could be together forever, under Tsuna's leadership and determination to preserve bonds.

_"Wait here."_

_"Tsuna?"_

_"Jyudaime?"_

_"You guys stay behind. I'll go in on my own."_

_"Tsuna, maybe we should-"_

_"Maa maa, its fine Yamamoto. I'll...be okay."_

He had forgotten, while clinging to old immature dissillusions, that being Mafia meant crime. It meant death. Even Tsuna hadnt been able to change the inevitable.

"Tsuna..." Yamamoto clutched his eyes shut. It hurt to have them open, only seeing blood spraying backwards onto double glass doors and the smiling face of the Millifiore Don. Though, when Yamamoto's eyes closed, he saw Tsuna's exasperated smile; the soft honey-gold light that surrounded his messy spikes of chesnut brown hair when they sometimes went on early morning walks around the Vongola compound together; the deep flush of red when Reborn would tell them all an embarrasing moment of their Boss.

_"R-Reborn! Thats enough! D-don't tell them that! What did I ever do to you?!"_

These warm memories and images were around before. They would more often then not resurface in Yamamoto's mind to make his body feel pleasent and keep the positive attitude he'd always had. He'd feel himself smiling.

Now, they were salt in his freshly torn wounds.

It was ironic. He was the one who had to litterally pry loose the hysteric and screaming Gokudera from Tsuna's side. He remembered only holding the Storm Guardian back long enough that the horrified Vongola medical unit tp step in and take their Sky away in an ambulance. Yamamoto had seen the EMT's faces. He'd even caught the solome shake of their heads and the way the wouldnt look directly at the body they had lifted onto a streacher.

How had he managed to pull himself away? How was he able to let go of his longest more dear friend? How had he done that, when all he'd wanted was to cling to that thin, trembling hand and never let it go?

Now, he would never be able to hold that hand again.

Every partical of Yamamoto's soul craved to be able to pull the unsuspecting Tsuna into a one-armed embrace like they were students again. He wanted so badly to laugh while Gokudera brilsted and yelled with jealous anger, Tsuna just sighing in light hearted resignation.

Yamamoto ignored the massive explosion of marble and drywall only feet from his head as Mukurou and Hibari vented themselves around him. He simply let his eyes burn from tears they were not used to spilling.

* * *

"Oh? Well, isn't this a bad joke."

He'd said it with sad, angry eyes, but a classic smile. It had to be a joke, and Yamamoto truely believed it to be. A sick person's idea of humor, perhaps a Millifiore attempt at comedy. What other reason could exist for him to be face to face with those huge blinking amber eyes?

He'd forced himself to realize even before it was said, that it was in fact Tsuna, just brought back from ten years ago. He paid slight notice to the youthful Gokudera standing beside Tsuna, it was hard not to see the difference between the younger and elder version, as this one still had life in his green-grey eyes.

The more they all spoke, the more Yamamoto let himself calmly bask in the fact that it really was the 15 year old version of his belov-

...Best friend.

He wondered if Tsuna knew why he'd appeared in that flower-filled coffin. Did Gokudera come back from the past at the same time, or had the present-day Hayato have to see Tsuna's face all over again on one of his daily trips to pay respects?

They went on through the darkened woods, and with growing light coming back into his eyes, Yamamoto let himself give Tsuna's shrunked stature a throttle as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

It was more painful then he thought it would be, feeling the familiar way his arm tucked in just around those shoulders, hearing the indignant and aghast outcry from Gokudera trailing behind. It was painful, but it felt so good to have it again. Like a sip of warm, bitter-sweet tea on the coldest day in winter, he even got to hear Tsuna laugh once.

He wondered what the Present-day Gokudera would say if he saw the way he'd been finding excuses to touch this Tsuna. Rubbing his hair affectionatly while telling him about all the amazing things his Future self had accomplished seemed enough to earn a harsh jealous glare from the Smoking Bomb of the past.

Of course there were things he had to stop himself from doing. Outright embracing the young brunet was out of the question. It wouldnt fit his personality and would only confuse and probably scare the two younger boys. This lead him to regretting he'd sheathed his sword, for now that he'd thought about it, his fingers began twitching towards the so-small hands of the innocent teenage boy who walked beside him.

Tsuna was all questions, and for the first time, since so long ago, a genuin smile lifted past his lips and warmed his dark brown eyes.

Much later, Yamamoto sent Tsuna off to find the missing Kyouko while he handled a battle in the streets of Namimori. He'd done it for the simple reason that no one would recognise him, and that now that he was there, he didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon.

So he'd paced himself, tought the teenaged Gokudera a few tricks about the new-age weapons (it was a little ego-boosting, teaching the all mighty Right Hand of Vongola how to fight). He'd never suspect that the boxes he tossed up in the air to catch impressivly on their way down, would in fact never reach his waiting palm, as an explosion of pink smoke took him away.

He hoped, when he came back, things would be different, and copper-penny eyes would close in a off-beat smile while he walked through the Vongola compound in the early morning sunlight.

* * *

**I really like the pairing of Yamamoto and Tsuna, and its so rare that I love writing even little hints at it. **

**I know it was short, but I never planed on these being very long chapters...**

**I'm caught between who to depict next. Gokudera's is going to be the most angsty of the lot, so I had planned on saving him for 2ed to the last (Tsuna's Chapter will be the last of the bunch). Maybe Hibari?**

**Thank you for reading, everyone!**


	4. Hibari Kyouya

**I first would like to thank all those who have read and reviewed to this story. Each of your kind words have made me very happy. I also appriciate the bit of critiques as well, as they help me realize I should go over things before I send them out for others to read. Its just very difficult since my spell check has been removed...**

**I hope you will enjoy this chapter as well.**

* * *

It would be a cold day in Hell before Hibari Kyouya would shed a tear for Sawada Tsunayoshi.

He, enforcer of Discipline and Order in Namimori, would not belittle himself as quickly as the others had. The pitiful way that Storm Guardian was laying out in the rain, most likely trying to drown himself over the recent events. That Yamamoto Takeshi, who was always smiling like a fool, now sat crying. _Crying, _where anyone could see him. That Chrome Dokuro looked much like a drowned rat, her hysterical sobs and wails gratted on the Cloud Guardian's nerves as she was carted back to her room by those mutts she called partners. He had always hated her kind.

Hibari would not let himself act like the rest. He felt nothing over the sudden loss, though his stomach and lungs did feel tight in a way he hadn't been bothered by before. This problem didn't seem like something deserving of his main focus at the moment, not when that Rokudo Mukurou had decided to pick a fight as a reaction to his obvious denile.

_"He's dead."_

Oddly enough he'd felt his body push forward more recklessly then it would usually. His brain wasn't giving calculated orders, and his aim was fueled more by an instictual rush then rehersed movement.

Rokudo also seemed to have decided on a ring-flame-only battle, rather then pulling out that rediculous trident. And Hibari didn't really care, in the heat of things, the way his body threw itself forward with abandon, that he wasn't armed with his loyal tonfas.

It was a strange, unnatural feeling. It creeped over his skin the more prolonged this fight was going. He was getting injured at the same rate that he himself was injuring, but his nerves welcomed the dull sting of a future bruise, a splitting welt, or an over extended ligiment. His normal blatant stubborness of getting struck down at all was reflected into opposition, and he rejected safe distance.

His body burned. Burned in a way he'd never known before, and he rejected that, too. It was a numbing sensation, the rush of endorophins after the pain receptors alerted the brain of harm.

But Hibari had been hurt worse then the wounds the now down-and-out Illusionist had given him. He saw no reason to be experiancing any of the sensations that lingered through him now.

Tsunayoshi may be dead, but he was Hibari Kyouya, and that had nothing to do with him.

Breathing heavily through his mouth, the Reigning Disciplinary Commitee Chairmen turned away from the sight of Rokudo's resigned body slumped on the shattered staircase, those mismatched eyes half-lidded and glaring. Hibari's pattent leather shoes stepped over the rubble, shattered vases and broken antique fruniture, not pausing to give the Rain Guardian a second glance on his way back out the door.

The falling torrent outside had yet to cease, but Hibari ignored it on his way down the grand front steps. He just barely flickered his eyes down to the silver haired nuscance of a man who had apparently decided on letting himself get washed out into the Mediterranean sea.

"_You'd better not pick a fight with anyone, Hibari-yarou!"_

_"Tch. Say's the un-nuetered lap dog."_

_"Oi oi, please stop fighting you two. Hiiie! Hibari-san, put those away!!" _

Hibari huffed a short breath, pulling out his cell phone and pressing in the speed dial for Kusakabe. The conversation was short, hardly worthy of the deffinition.

"Kusakabe. I'm at Sawada's mansion. Send the car."

"_Hai, Kyou-san._"

He held the inactive phone in his hand, the plastic casing saving it from the falling rain. He frowned in distate at the bloodied finger prints smeared across the buttons. It annoyed him, that the others had been too busy gathering around someone who was well past saving while he had to use his own blood covered hands to dial up the medical unit.

He was rather pleased about how many Millifiore he'd gotten to bite to death, though. Pitty the Dandilion of a man and the red-head in the thick glasses had managed to run off before they could get into the room. He wanted to finish them off most of all.

Really, Hibari mused, standing in the rain as his car came past the main gates at the end of the drive, what did the other's expect? Tsunayoshi was just the type of person to act as he had. He'd no one to blame but himself for what he got. Hibari hadn't wanted protection, and he hadn't asked for it when it was forced upon him.

Without waiting for his assistant to open it for him, Hibari pulled open the passengers side door and sat himself down on the leather seat. Kusakabe Tetsuya had to take a few moments to readjust after seeing his boss in such a 'disheveled' state.

Hibari paused in the middle of removing his suit jacket to give the Yakuza-looking man a pointed look.

"Drive, Kusakabe, or have you forgotten how since you pulled in?" he asked retorically. Tetsuya stuttered a 'Yes, Kyou-san' and shifted into gear, driving down the long front entrance of the Vongola Estate, windsheild-wipers dancing back and forth rhythmaticaly.

Hibari sat back in his seat, his cloths wet and uncomfortable. He felt exaughsted and sunken in, like an autum leaf that is stepped on and torn.

"Kyou-san... you're bleeding..!" Kusakabe stated, his voice concerned and startled. Hibari followed the man's eyes, keeping a pasive expression directed at the smears of dark red up his arms and across his torso.

"It's not mine." He answered, switching his icy grey gaze out the window to the dull, rain slicked Italian countryside. Kusakabe sighed, having a life's worth of knowledge that if it wasnt Kyouya's, it could be anyone's blood. This relieving thought in mind, he resumed driving with a more placid aura.

Hibari sat his chin in his palm, elbow on the small ledge by the window. With his hands so close to his face, he could smell clearly the familiar metalic scent of dried blood, like too many pennies rubbed over the skin; the staining scent of copper and iron.

"It's Sawada Tsunayoshi's..." he found himself whispering.

Kusakabe took in a shocked lungful of air, his hands gripping the steering wheel while he looked back and forth between Hibari and the road.

"Sa-Sawada's...?!"

Hibari said nothing more, letting his assistant gape and speak of things he himself could not associate with. It had only just occured to him, that the blod on his cloths and hands was that of the Herbivore who had defeated him less then a few times in mock-fights (what he younger man had been _told _were mock fights).

_"Mou, Hibari-san! D-don't get so serious! We're just practicing! Hibari-saaaan!"_

Hibari had never in his life 'just practiced' with anyone. He wondered when the next oppertunity would come up in Tsunayoshi's scheduel to have another...

His finger twitched against his cheek as he recalled the circumstances. Often times, when young children were told that someone they had know had died, they would not seem to properly understand, and would ask later where that person had gone and when they would be coming back.

Hibari Kyouya had never been a child, and he wasn't planning on starting now.

"...It's just, this is really something I hadn't expected." Kusakabe ended after being ignored for a good twenty minutes of shocked rambling. Hibari sighed, yawning into his hand and pushing back against the headrest.

"Ah, Kyou-san..." Tetsuya proded after a few silent miles. Hibari made a soft grunt in response.

"What... what will you do now..?"

Steel grey eyes opened a fraction, enough that Hibari was able to see the rain crashing against the windsheild and sweeping up over the top of the roof.

_"Hibari-san... I, I guess I should thank you."_

_"What do I need your thanks for, Tsunayoshi."_

_"Well... even though you seem to hate everything about it, you accepted becoming one of my Guardians, right? So, thanks..."_

The answer wasn't immeadiate, it took Hibari a good half-dozen more miles of Italian road before he came up with an answer.

"Travle. I want to figure out the Ring Boxes." he replied, closing his eyes again. Kusakabe glanced at his Boss, brows furrowed.

"...But, what about... They'll be holding a funeral, right?" he asked. Hibari's shoulders shifted against the back of the seat, as if trying to make himself more comfortable.

"I wont be gathering around with all those people for the sake of something I dont care about." he stated.

"But Kyou-sa-"

"I want to bite them all to death..." Hibari interupted, eyes now fixed directly into his associate's dark eyes. "The Millifiore. They are a group I cannot let do as they please without a care for the rules... I plan on killing every last one of them."

Kusakabe swallowed, teeth grinding on the small stick between his lips.

"But, the Vongola rings were destroyed, the research came back that they're getting the Mare rings and coming up with new boxes..." he reasoned. Hibari relaxed back into his seat, eyes going back to the darting scenery.

"Seeing as how I'm the only one with an ounce of sense anymore, I will think of something. I'll figure out how to get the Vongola Rings back..." he muttered.

Tetsuya remained in bewildered silence for the rest of the drive, much to the prefrence of his Boss. Hibari just stared out the window, occasionaly shifting in his seat as his damp clothes became itchy and uncomfortable. The blood on his button-up blouse was starting to harden and rub annoyingly against his abdomen.

He felt sick, that pressure tight in his stomach and lungs was threatening to tie around his throat . It wouldnt do for this illness to progress any further then it had, so with that in mind he felt it best to get some rest lest it consume him as it had the others.

* * *

The only regret Hibari had, when he looked the younger version of Sawada Tsunayoshi over, was that he'd had a hand in bringing such an annoying creature back.

That 'Gamma' had made short work of the other two, and now there was Tsuna flanking Lal Mirch looking just as foolishly in awe as he had been so many times before. It was irritating, but there was a slight release in the tight coils that had pleagued the Cloud Guardian's body since that night.

Once Kusakabe arrived on the scene (another person Tsuna seemed completely shocked to see), he had the two unconcious Rain and Storm Guardians gathered up, and quickly left the scene.

The entrance Hibari used to get into the hideout was cast in classic Japanese style, and it was a a little amusing that the young Tsunayoshi was agahst at his future-self's choice. True, the Him of the Future had had all the fusuma and tatami rooms installed, but he had done it only because Hibari wouldnt stay there otherwise. Though he'd said later, red from apparent embarresment, that he'd done it because he just gotten back from a stay in Italy and wanted to surround himself in all things Japanese.

Some time later, Hibari felt the itch to speak to the younger Mafia Don privately. He didn't particularily want anyone else to be in the room at the time, and he didn't really know what he would say, if anything, but regardless, the urging was still there. Yet just as he'd begun to confront the meek little teen, nearly everyone in the complex started gathering around, and whatever urge to speak to the Vongola he'd had, Hibari was quick to replace it with the urge of bitting him to death.

It was a wonderful oppertunity though, when the Baby put him in charge of training the little Herbivore. Hibari took more satisfaction then he fully understood, watching that boy get himself out of the Needle Sphere cage. It was like a great breath of clean, pure air, when they began the intense sparring training.

Each dodge and blow made Hibari that much more relieved for some unknown reason. He couldnt put the blame on lack of action, he'd been fighting frequently since he came back to Japan. The more likely reason was that it was Tsunayoshi he was fighting now. The sparring partner he'd been deprived of for longer then he'd cared for.

When Tsunayoshi seemed too weak to fight him near the level he had as an adult, Hibari would stop and not waste his time on him, going back to his room to drink his tea alone (though that damn boxing imbicile seemed to have come back and was bothering him from time to time).

Away from the teenager or not, Sawada Tsunayoshi would not leave Hibari's thoughts. He was constantly thinking of the next fight. The next training session. Then next oppertunity to be in the same room as him.

When finaly the day arrived that the Millifiore attacked, Hibari Kyouya's cronic sickness had left him, and he was able to bite with his sharpest teeth.

* * *

**Well, I wrote this in what I feel would have been Hibari's real perspective. He's really, really not a mushy guy who'd cry for anyone, I dont think. He's harsh and probably denies any form of emotion, except maybe being 'pissed the hell off'.**

**It was difficult, and I wish I could have made him a bit more gushy, but it really didn't seem in-character when I wrote it that way.**

**A note, Reborn will have his own chapter, for those wondering. I'm just not sure when it will be written and after who he'll come in. I still have Chrome, Ryouhei, and Gokudera. I think I'll write a Dino one too. If there is anyone else you'd like to be described, please tell me (please dont say Kyouko or Haru though, I just can't. I'm sorry. Kyouko esspecially).**

**Oya, oya, Happy Holloween (it just happens to be that day here lol)**


	5. Chrome Dokuro

**Now then, apparently my spelling got worse. But! I have spell check again, so lets hope it gets slightly better this time around. I am very sorry if my poor skills in the spelling department turn you off of this story, I will try even harder.**

**This will most likely be very short, as very little is mentioned about TYL!Chrome in the Future arc. So, here is Chrome's take from my own imaginings.**

**(oh, I never put in one of these, my bad)**

**Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn and all affiliated characters belong to Amano Akira.  
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**Chrome Dokuro was once named 'Nagi'.

'Nagi' had lived in Tokyo, and her parents were upper class aristocrats with business on the brain. Her father, a prominent CEO of a company many knew of, and her mother, a trophy wife devoted to the social scene and benefit parties. 'Nagi' had never been a part of their simple world of money and ladder-climbing. She was a wallflower at school, and never said more then she absolutely had to. So she was teased and bullied, and even her parents began to speak ill of her when she could plainly hear them. She stayed quiet, but her heart grew smaller and began to hate people, knowing that there was no good in the world. She hated everyone around her. Especially herself.

But now, now she was Chrome Dokuro.

She had a new life, one with purpose and friends. And in the same way she had given her life for the stray cat that had run out into traffic all those years ago, she would give up everything for her special people.

But, it seemed, just hours ago in a pure white room with thick glass doors barring the way, that one of them had beaten her to the punch.

"Hey, Dokuro, which way's your room?" Ken's voice was miles away, drowned under water, and Chrome could barely hear past her own sobbing. She didn't reply, just gasped for air so her weeping could carry on.

_"Chrome-san, ah, well, its just, I'd like it if you stayed in the limo..."_

_"I'm Mukurou-sama's eyes, Boss. I must be present when Boss meets the Millifiore."_

_"But... Chrome-san... you shouldn't come..."_

_"Why, Boss?"_

_"Its just... I dont want you... to see..."  
_

"Never mind, we'll take her to Mukurou-san's room for now." Chikusa supplied.

Her body was limp, being held up by her two Kokuyo partners under each arm while she was half-lifted, half-dragged through the halls. Her black leather boots dragged along the Persian rugs and marble tile with no strength in them to hold herself up. Ken and Chikusa didn't seem to care (a surprising thing, considering Ken always let loose on her at the slightest inconvenience she posed), their arms strong enough to lift the pathetic 115 pounds of crying flesh.

When the two men pulled her past a bedroom threshold, Chrome could feel the warmth of the heated fireplace, but in the same way one could feel the sun's warmth while looked out a window on a summer day. She knew it was there, but her body still felt so cold.

Ken hastily deposited her onto the blankets of Mukurou's bed, Chikusa taking more care to set her down gently. Chrome could feel them both sit on either side of her, close, in the way a pack of dogs would gather around the member of the pack that was injured or sick. She really did feel like a dog, curled up in the fetal position, useless for nothing else but crying.

She could remember the slight, tilted smile of the Boss, just as his blood sprayed backwards onto the glass doors behind him. She remembered it as clearly as she remembered the day her parents rejected her life at the Hospital. Having to sit behind closed doors while awful things are seen and heard clearly on the other side, beyond her reach.

"So... Usagi-chan is..." Ken muttered quietly, staring into the fireplace. Chrome pushed her face further into the mattress, hoping the lingering smell of Mukurou would comfort her as it had on other occasions. But the familiar smell did nothing but remind her of another that she'd come to find was just as relaxing. The scent of Italian Passiflora and another that Mukurou had once told her was like 'a clear blue sky on a Spring day in Japan', whatever that had meant.

But when she tried to remember the Boss's smell, all other aspects of his personality flew in together, and she understood perfectly. Tsuna was like the clearest day in Spring, his soul so pure and smile so bright even people like Chrome could feel more confident.

She clutched the bed sheets as another sob wracked over her body. Ken and Chikusa unconsciously scooted in closer around her, both looking away, deep in thought about what this would mean for the Kokuyou. The Vongola was Sawada Tsunayoshi's life, Tsuna's life was Mukurou's life, and Mukurou's life was Chrome's life, in an almost literal sense.

"Dokuro." Chikusa suddenly spoke up, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. Chrome tried to slow her gasping breathing while she titled her head and looked up. Chikusa pushed his glasses back on, bending his knee up to rest his chin on it while he started at the wood dark red painted walls.

"Vongola died, that much we can guess from whats going on out front." he said, making Chrome shake harder. "But regardless of that, you should understand; _We_ are not Vongola Guardians. We three are Kokuyou, Mukurou-san too. We're just here so Mukurou-san can take over the Vongola, and change the world. _He_ became the Mist Guardian so he could destroy the Mafia. "

Chrome stared in a way a child would, uncomprehending and lost. Ken sighed heavily, removing himself from his own stubborn personality to rest a large hand on the criss-cross part in his female partner's hair.

"Kakipi is right, byan. Usagi-chan is Mafia. We're out to get rid of the mafia. The only loss is that Mukurou-sama lost a valuable body to use. I'm sure he thinks the same way... So, in the end, this is... for the better." he said, but there was a subtle note of regret and doubt in his voice.

"Now we all have to follow Mukurou-san's orders. They're whats best for all of us." Chikusa said, voice trailing off the way it often did.

Chrome said nothing. She just sunk deeper into the mattress and let her sobs die down into light sniffling and hiccups. Then, when that too was gone, she just lay there, flanked on either side by her partners, just staring at the threads in the blanket. Her breathing evened out, and her mind cleared somewhat, much like a field would after a terrible storm.

It was a terrible calm. Her soul was hurting from the feelings she wanted, and the knowledge of her obligations. The person Mukurou had told her would be her Boss, while he smiled at her softly in the peaceful landscape of their shared mentality, was gone forever. She knew that along with the knowledge that Tsuna was her Boss, was the fact that he only existed to her because of his entwined fate with Mukurou.

But she liked her Boss because he never rejected her either. Her Boss always greeted her with his kind smile, the one that took years of practice before it could appear without being accompanied by an embarrassed flush of red.

Now the only red she saw was that which coated her cloths and hands after she'd gripped her Boss's body so desperately for the few last seconds she could. The Boss that said she was always welcome in the mansion. The Boss that never minded she was bonded with someone out to posses his body. The Boss that locked double glass doors behind himself, facing the inevitable with a calm smile of resignation and expectancy.

The Boss that she would serve still, as Chrome Dokuro. She'd mourn the loss of her precious Boss for herself. Not for Ken, or Chikusa. Not for her beloved Mukurou-sama.

She would be Vongola Mafia, to protect the memory of the one who smiled at both Chrome Dokuro, and 'Nagi'.

* * *

**TYL!Chrome doesnt appear in the TYL Arc, so I'm leaving it at this. I told you it would be very short because of this.  
**

**I wanted to think that after years of contact between the two, Tsuna had allowed Chrome to become more aware of herself and not so much Mukurou's other-self. Thats what I like to think anyway...**

**Next chapter will most likely be Ryohei.**

**Thank you for reading this story, and Im glad if your enjoying it so far.  
**


	6. Sasagawa Ryouhei

**Here is a character's point of view that I've wondered about just as much as the others. I'm pretty sure he wasn't present during the assassination, but he could have, I've got no real idea. Either way, I've wanted to write his chapter quite a bit, because hes one of my favorites.**

**Unfortunately, due to lack of information, I'm not entirely sure how in character this will be... I really don't know how this guy, with his personality, would have handled the news...  
**

**Disclaimer: I dont own Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, nor the affiliated characters.**

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS LOTS OF VERY HARSH LANGUAGE ON THE VARIA'S PART. MOSTLY XANXUS, BUT THATS JUST WHO HE IS. YOU HAVE BEEN ALERTED.  
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"And then I told him, 'I'm not interested in someone who can't even last in the ring, let alone the bedroom!'"

A loud cacophony of laughter filled the black limousine on its way through he streets of New York, the two men inside hidden from outsider's eyes by bulletproof tinted windows.

"Ahaha, I'm not sure what you mean when you say those kinda of jokes, Lussuria." said the spiky silver haired man, who chuckled in a heartily- albeit a bit confused- manner.

Sasagawa Ryouhei had been in America for about a day and a half so far, on his Boss's orders, to meet with the waiting Varia and collect information on several dangerous mafia famigilia. The first day he arrived via private jet, he'd spent in a luxury suit until he would meet up with his escort the next person, the ever flamboyant Lussuria (Ryouhei never fully comprehended the fact that his friend was pretty much as gay as they come), was busy conversing animatedly about is most recent relationships and missions with the other Varia, scooting closer all the while to the silver haired man's seat.

The sleek black limo pulled along as best it could in the traffic of New York's congested streets, breaking free of the chaos by way of side streets that eventually turned into the rare part of the state in which houses sat on rich, luxurious land plots. Ryouhei stared out the darkened window at the scenery, his smile light and carefree.

"Naa, Ryouhei-kun, you havn't been to visit in a while, what're you doing in America this time around? Is it because you miss me?!" Lussuria questioned, now nearly on the same seat as the Boxing enthusiast. Ryouhei chuckled, scratching the old scar on his brow.

"Sawada sent me over. I'm here to collect some information from you guys." he answered. Lussuria tilted his head, his lips pursed in a large pout.

"Tsuna-chan? Information on what? Its rare for that cute little Boss to ask anything from us, for how terrified he is of Xanxus-sama~!" he spouted dramatically, clutching his hands together under his chin. Ryouhei laughed again, nodding in agreement.

"That's true, you should see his face when he hears you guys are coming to stay at the mansion. All the color drains out of his face and only Reborn can get him out of his room!"

The two men laughed for a while longer, now sidetracked into telling stories about both their boss's less-then-authoritative qualities (Ryouhei had more the share the his Mohawked partner). The limousine slowed, pulling in to the large gray pebble driveway of a castle-like estate, guards at the main gates nodding in recognition to the driver as they granted unharmed passage.

Ryouhei chuckled as he stepped out of the luxury vehicle, Lussuria clamped on his arm and exclaiming loudly to the castle walls of their arrival.

"Yooo-whooo~! I'm back with Ryouhei-kun, everyone~!" he hollered in his great high pitched yet vaguely masculine tone. There was no response, however, from the cold stone building, and Lussuria seemed at odds about that fact.

"Ah, strange. Usually you can hear Commander Squalo yelling back at me to shut up... Hmph! Could they be ignoring me?!" he mused aloud. Ryouhei just grinned at the eccentrics of this member of the Varia, pushing open the great dark oak doors and entering the vast main lobby of the Varia Head Quarters.

The walls were covered in antique tapestries, deep red and bearing the Assassination Squadron Crest. Ryouhei's patent leather Versace shoes made sharp 'clack' sounds reverberate from the black limestone marble floors, all the way up to the towering stone ceilings that anchored heavy metal and crystal chandeliers. There was a definite feeling of medieval inspiration about the place, and from the outside in it didn't look like something to be found anywhere in the United States.

"Squalo! Bel! Levi! Geez, where is everyone?" Lussuria huffed, placing his hands on his jutted out hip. Ryouhei stared up at the grand staircase winding up to the second floor, his eyebrows furrowed. This house was a 'home' (of sorts) to some of the most dangerous men on the planet, so it was fitting that there be a kind of unwelcoming atmosphere, but it was more off then it had been on past visits.

"Well, first things first, I need to see Xanxus. Sawada was kinda vague on the details of the information I needed though..." Ryouhei said, rubbing the white compress on the bridge of his nose.

"Hai haaai!" Lussuria sang, leading his fellow Sun attribute companion up the stairs with a bounce in his step. Ryouhei stuffed his bandaged hands into his pockets, paying half his attention to the ancient paintings of great battles and important people of the past, and half to Lussuria's continuous stream of conversation.

"Ah, here it is, Boss's office. Scaaary, isn't it?" the Mai Thia fighter said, gesturing at the towering double doors that appeared as the hallway's dead end. The wood was dark, with reinforced steel bolts and thick metal handles that might at some point have been a precious metal, but were not tarnished from ill keeping.

"Xanxus doesn't scare me all taht bad." Ryouhei said with a chuckle, gripping the handles and pulling. "Now, Tsuna while in Hyper Dying Will? That'll get to me."

The great doors scrapped loudly against he stone floors, giving an ominous sort of foreboding feeling to anyone thinking about entering. Ryouhei just stared in steadfastidly, his feet following his careless personality and pushed him into the dark room beyond the threshold. Lussuria followed along closely in his wake, the eyes behind his sunglasses sneakily eying the Boxer's arm for an opportunity to cling to it once again.

It was deadly silent in the Varia Captian's office. Cold; smelling a bit like brandy and copper. Ryouhei felt uncomfortable, as most would, standing in the center of the room, feeling eyes stick all over him.

"Yoo-whooo, Lussuria is here with the special guest Ryouhei-kuuun!!" Lussuria sang, dancing over to a red velvet couch, of which he collapsed into with a flourish. Ryouhei smiled at his Guide's antics, yet was not surprised to hear the resounding 'Tch!' that echoed around the stone walls.

"Voooi! Fucking Sun-Homo! Can't you be a little quieter? Shit." came the disgruntled voice of the man Ryouhei knew well as Yamamoto Takeshi's fellow Rain Swordsman.

"Squalo, it's been a while." he greeted, waving to the man who sat in the window-sill, arms crossed and long silver hair dropping over his face recklessly. Squalo gave a grunt in recognition.

"That fucker ready to come have another match with me yet? Or is he still dicking around with that _stupid_ baseball shit?!" he inquired in a rather harsh tone. Ryouhei smiled. The name hadn't been used, but Ryouhei knew perfectly well what 'fucker' Squalo was referring to.

"I don't think so, he seemed pretty busy with Vongola work and doing the training for Major League games. He does send his regards though." the silver haired Sun Guardian answered. Squalo crossed his arms tighter over his chest, his face all the more upset.

The sound of muffled coughing came to Ryouhei's ears, and his attention was shifted to the pair who stood in the dimmest part of the study. A tall man who's usual hooded face was now unveiled by the fit of violent coughs he was trying to suppress. The boy at his side, who wore a large, strange hat that made it seem as though a frog was eating his head, stared with interest at the cloaked man's sudden bought.

"Ah, so you're sick too, Mammon?" Ryouhei asked, his tone concerned, though he knew it would be wasted on the grown Arcobaleno. Sure enough, he was soon treated to a pair of narrowed, uncaring dark purple eyes under a mat of even darker bangs before the hood was pulled right back up to once again conceal the man's features.

"Like I'd catch something from those useless people." he said in a mellow sounding voice, wiping the speckles of blood he didn't think Ryouhei had seen onto his coat. The boy at his side let out a hum.

"Hmmmm, but Master has been sick for a good month now...." he mused, receiving a sharp elbow to the back of the head by the generous Mammon.

"Fran, what did I tell you about talking?" he queried. Fran sighed.

"'Don't'." he supplied obediently.

"_Ushishishsi...._"

Ryouhei shifted. He knew that laugh, and he was sure Gokudera Hayato knew it just as well.

"The little Frog Student is just as pathetically stupid as his Teacher." said the blond haired Prince of the Vaira as he lounged on a couch opposite of Lussuria, followed by an agreeing nod from the Lightning giant Levi A Than, who stood behind him against the book shelves.

_'__Belphegore_.' Ryouhei thought, his eyes narrowed with dislike for the Genius royalty.

"Aaah, the Fallen Prince is speaking, Master. I'm gonna pretend like I don't hear him...!" Fran said clearly loud enough for all to hear. Ryouhei chuckled even though a dangerous silver knife whizzed past him and stuck itself in the shoulder of the young Fran, who silently shed a few tears without changing his blank, emotionless expression. Ryouhei couldn't be sure if Fran had felt it at all, when he acted like that.

"You guys seem to be getting along as well as eve-"

"**Shut up**."

The Sun Guardian turned rigid. A chill ran down his spine and arms, the acrid voice coming like thunder from the figure behind the huge black oak desk. Ryouhei turned his head casually, being a man that wasn' t all that easy to intimidate on bark alone. And, after all, this person was the one he was sent to talk to.

"Xanxus." he nodded to the glowering red eyed man, bowing out of Japanese customs. Xanxus, Captain of the Ninth Vongola's Special Assassination Squad, glared at the Vongola's Sun, swirling his snifter of Cognac. His spikes of black hair fell into his eyes, almost hiding the visible scars that stretched across his cheeks and forehead.

"When'dyou get here?" he drawled, pushing his glass against his lip, letting the fiery liquid burn coldly over his lips. Ryouhei raised a scarred eyebrow.

"I only just got here-"

"Not _here,_ you dumb shit! In the fucking 'States. How the fuck long have you been in this shitty country?" Xanxus barked, interrupting the would-be reply. Ryouhei frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tsuna always sent him to deal with the Varia, and if it wasn't him, it was Yamamoto. The only reason for this was most likely because Ryouhei was friends with Lussuria, and Yamamoto was on 'good' terms with Squalo. But other then the mohawk-ed man, Ryouhei couldn't be sure that any of the other Varia cared at all for his presence. Hell, they barely cared for each other's presence. But he dealt with it just fine, since it couldn't be helped that Tsuna was absolutely petrified of even being in the same _country_ as Xanxus.

"Tsuna had me come over about a day and a half ago. I've been staying at the Hilton in NYC. You know, the drive upstate was a real-"

"Shut the hell up, _fuck_! I didn't ask for your fucking itinerary!"

Ryouhei clenched his teeth, hands bracing at his sides into familiar fists.

"Oi! You're being EXTREMELY rude! I can stand that Hibari Kyouya more then you!" he snapped back, lifting his arms into his most practiced stance. In back of him, Lussuria let out an amused hum, pressing his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose. Xanxus seemed none too pleased.

"You piece of Guardian shit..." the Italian growled, red eyes fixed precisely on the boxer's dusty gray. Ryouhei glared heatedly back, the animosity hanging thick in the air so much anyone not used to such an ominous aura would cower in distress.

"That sack of _garbage_ you call a Boss..." Xanxus continued, his lip curling as though the mere thought of Vongola's true Sky was a bad taste in his mouth.

"That sack of shit... the pussy-ass little dickless _fuck_ that's in charge of when you take a _piss_-"

"Oi! You gonna keep insulting Sawada to the extreme, or do you have anything else to say?!" Ryouhei's fist slammed down on the dark wooden desk, rousing a shuddering quake to thrum down into the floor. Xanxus just stared with intensified menace, and with his steel-toed boot, shoved the laptop that was facing him toward the silver haired Guardian.

"This 'oughta shut you're damn mouth, shit head." he sneered. Ryouhei frowned at the screen, not understanding the small sentence of dots and dashes that were displayed in code.

"What is this?" he inquired, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a confused expression. Xanxus took a large swig of his brandy.

"Varia coded report, moron. Its about that shitty Boss of yours."

Ryouhei blinked.

"Sawada? What about him? Does he want me to come back already?"

Xanxus took another long drink, slamming his empty cup down and refilling it with a great show of uncaring as excess liquor spilled across the paperwork.

"He's dead."

Ryouhei froze. A sharp chill cut through his spine down to his fingertips, causing his fists to clench tightly. His steel gray eyes filled with fury, staring at the lax Leader of the Varia.

"You bastard, calling Sawada names is one thing, but making up things like th-"

"_Shut up_!" Xanxas roared, standing up from his chair so abruptly that it span out from under him and clattered to the floor. The Italian grabbed his bandy glass and hurled it across the room, where it narrowly smashed into the head of Marmon's strange student.

"Miss." Fran announced, seemingly unaffected by the seriousness of the conversation. The other Varia were quiet, oddly so. Ryouhei spun on his heel to inspect them all, searching for a tell that would give away the joke that wasn't registering with him.

Squalo had turned his head out of site, staring out of the window, his arms crossed in an uncomfortable way that seemed more awkward then relaxed. Belphegore didn't have the giant grin plastered across his royal face, instead he fascinated himself with his rings, turning them over on his fingers with his lips turned in a emotionless line, while behind him Levi hid a slight ill-to-do smile. Lussuria had his fingers pressed to his gloss covered lips, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he stared at his fellow Sun Attribute.

It began as small movements of his neck muscles, Ryouhei shaking his head slightly. He turned back to Xanxus, who was now back in his chair with the entire bottle of liquor, gulping it down in large swallows.

"That's... that's a lie." The silver haired man denied, his fists shaking at his sides.

"You think I'd admit to that piece of _shit_ dying by someone other then me?! If I say that little _fuck_ got called in as dead, then that fucking means he's dead." Xanxus snapped, his red eyes flaring. Ryouhei stood stock-still, his pulse hammering in his ears, drowning out a voice that could have been Lussuria's.

"I... I have to go... Japan, I... have to go back.." The Guardian muttered, his vision flashing around the room while he backed away. The Varia stared with mixed expressions, blank stares of uncaring, camouflaged apprehension, and turned backs. Ryouhei stumbled out of the room in a daze, his eyes dilated and spinning.

Though Lussuria had been the one to guide him through the maze of hallways to the Head Office of the castle, somehow the Boxer's feet found their way out onto the main steps outside. Since arriving the sun had begun to set, making the mansion grounds flood in a heavy red and gold light. He stopped, standing on the cement and stone stairs of the front drive, and began patting himself all over until his fingers found the lump in his breast pocket that was his cell phone.

" Yamamoto...Yamamoto..." he muttered hastily, impetuously punching his fingers against the number pad. He listed, ill at ease from the digital drone of each long drag of the responding ring. Ryouhei's eyes, small disks of silver awash in a sea of bloodshot white, stared at nothing while his head was filled with urgent pleads for the Rain Guardian to answer his phone.

"Damnit!" the boxer cursed upon discerning the automatic answering machine response above the thundering of his own rapid pulse. He punched in another number with the same urgency.

"Octopus-head... you always answer...!" he urged while the drone of the digital ring went on and on. Again, an answering service wait for him.

One bye one Ryouhei called the other Guardians. Hibari, Lambo, even Mukurou and Chrome; all left him empty handed and panicked. Then, slowly, his fingers pushed in the numbers that would connect him with his Boss. His hands were unsteady and weary as he pressed the phone back to his ear, waiting.

'_The party you are trying to reach is unavailable do to service cancellation or contract termination. Please contact service suppliers for further-'_

Ryouhei stood, staring at the ground. His hand fell limp to his side, the hard plastic shell of his mobile clattering sharply against the stones, cracking the screen and splitting the case. Behind him, the heavy thudding of boots and soft tinkling of metal chains came to stop at his side.

"...You can't be right. The report was wrong..." he stated. Beside him, Xanxus crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"If you want to think that, knock yourself the fuck out." he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. Ryouhei shook his head.

Of course the information was accurate. But it couldn't be right...

"How..." he questioned, his deep voice grumbling lowly in a whisper. Xanxus glared ahead of him.

"That Millifiore _scumbag_ assassinated him, apparently." the Varia Captain answered bitterly. Ryouhei shot his head around, looking aghast.

"Th-the meeting...?!"

Now Xanxus aimed his glare at him.

"No shit _that_ meeting." Ryouhei's blood turned cold and his muscles grew stiff. The meeting Tsuna said was unnecessary for him to attend...

"The others were there... other Guardians. Why didn't they-?!" Xanxus cut him off.

"Do I fucking look like I was there? No. I was in this piss-hole of a castle dealing with these fucks all on the order of that dead little piss-ant! The same reason _you're_ here!"

Ryouhei furrowed his brows, the skin of his forehead and the scar that marked it condensing with sweat. His short term memory problem often was the cuase of many problems for him, and even now it infuriated him that he was unable to recall Tsuna's words right before sending him off to America. He remembered the expression, though. The way his friend looked at him as though the time he regretted something deeply.

'_...just can't...Nii-san...understand, right?'_

Ryouhei felt sick. The rings on his fingers were cold and clammy against his skin, and he tasted a metallic flavor on his palate. Xanxus was muttering to himself, cursing the Millifiore's Don in his native language for 'killing what was his to kill'. Ryouhei looked at his crushed cell phone on the ground, wondering if he should have called Kyouko or her friend Hana. Hana knew about the whole Mafia business, but Kyouko was still blissfully unaware, something Tsuna had taken great efforts to cover up even after the two had decided to call a quits on any romantic involvement.

He wondered if he _could_ call his sister. Did she know? Was she just as unaware of her old crush's death as well as the reason why it occurred? No. She must still be at their family home, cooking or cleaning or whatever else she busied herself with. She'd probably be the last to find out. Ryouhei knew he couldn't be the one to tell her, anyway. He could hardly accept it himself.

'_I just can't....have... there...Niisan... understand, right?'_

The silver haired man let his knees bend and deposit him onto the cold stone steps of the mansion. He was at a loss, unknowing of how to handle the situation. No one he was this close to had ever... disappeared before. His parents were both still alive back in Namimori, and he'd never had a family pet before, so he'd never felt the pain of loosing a pet dog or cat.

His fist clenched tightly on his thigh.

Tsuna wasn't a childhood _pet_! He was his Boss. He was his friend; his 'little brother'. The grief gripped him tightly in a miserable hold, yet he was still uncertain as to how he was supposed to handle himself.

"_FUCKERS!"_ Xanxus shouted loudly and violently, his exclamation coming so suddenly and such high a volume that the Sun Guardian's body twitched. Ryouhei slowly dragged his eyes over to the older man, who was leaning against the castle's stone wall with his fist braced tightly above his head. Ryouhei studied him, his body slowly calming into a sort of resolved trance. His ashen grey eyes fell half-lidded, clouded from resignation of uncertainty.

_'I just can't have you there with me this time Niisan, you understand, right?'_

Ryouhei flinched against the concrete and stone ground, the memory finally coming back to him, as it did sometimes. Tsuna had said it with an easy going, sort of embarrassed looking smile, but there was still the hidden lacing of regret that peered out at Ryouhei, and made him curious even at the time. Tsuna sometimes said he was regretful of bringing the Guardians into such a world, despite the vehement arguments that they chose to be a part of it.

But that time, it was a sad, sorrowful, yet confident sort of regret. The kind that Ryouhei had only seen once before, years ago when he accompanied Tsuna along on a mission, and ended up healing him after he look damage from a bullet that had been aimed at the 8 year old Lambo. Tsuna had looked sad, and Ryouhei supposed it was from regret that he had ended up in such a situation. Yet other then the sadness, he seemed pleased that he was able to protect his youngest Guardian.

So why had he seen such an expression when Tsuna sent him off to America?

"Xanxus." Ryouhei's voice was thick and graven, this throat parched as though he'd been deprived of water for a lifetime. The Varia Commander glared over at him, making a sort of grunt of acknowledgment.

"I'm going back to Japan tomorrow, but I'm coming back. When I do, I'd like all the information you have on the Millifiore. All of it."

"Where the fuck do you get off ordering m-"

"Regardless of our internal strife, when we are attacked by enemies from the outside..." Ryouhei's fists shook as he spoke, his body at it's limit of grief and anger that he had to admit that all this was happening. Xanxus glared harder, but heaved a sigh and turned back into the castle.

"... We the Vongola are always... One... God _damnit_!! I fucking _hate_ you Guardian scumbags!!"

Xanxus left the end of the mantra at that, closing the double doors behind him with two great slams. Ryouhei stared at the ground, his eyes burning and wet, and his heart tight. The rings on his fingers, though not his most important (that ring had been done away with several months ago by Tsuna's command), felt like braces entwined around his hands. And there, on the steps of the Varia secondary Mansion in the state of New York in the United States of America, Sasagawa Ryouhei lost hope that things would be okay.

The Sky was gone. And what was the Sun to do without the Sky?

* * *

The young, 15 year old girl's head rolled against a steady shoulder.

Ryouhei's shoes clacked loudly through the hidden bases' hallway on his way to the meeting room, the empty sound unaffected his purposeful strides. The Boxer's steps were slightly more of a fast pace then usual, and he'd admit it was what was waiting for him that rushed his gait.

Tsuna had come back, due to some reason or another, but still, he was back.

So this, Ryouhei's second return back to Japan after the last one (which had been only two days, for the funeral), was an especially important instance. There were many things he wanted to see this time around, although at the moment the young Chrome Dokurou in his arms was a rather pressing matter. Would the 15 year old Tsuna be as vibrant as memory served? Surely the younger Vongola Decimo would recognize his 'Nii-san' still, despite the years of difference, but, would he believe the personality that came with those years?

Ryouhei was still, to a very smaller extent, still Ryouhei. His 'extreme' habits remained intact, and his high overprotectivness of his younger sister and friends, but a large part of him had been strongly effected by forigne grief and stricken sadness. It had calmed his personality down somewhat, and the acts of 'extreme-ity' were very much toned down to loud outbursts on the random occasion. He knew all too well as a boxer, that getting hit once meant another was to follow closely behind, and that it did when his Master had died a short while back.

But when the door slid up, and he was greeted with surprised, bright brown eyes under messy tawney bangs, his lips lifted in a smile again.

"Sasagawa Ryouhei, gate crashing!" he announced, and for the first time since that day he had been told by a man he couldn't stand that his dear friend had died, there was hope building anew in his eyes.

And so, he would do whatever it took to make things different this time around. No matter what extremes he had to take.

* * *

**Urgh, I really dont like how I ended this... I wish I knew how Ryohei handles emotions...  
**

**I wanted him to seem like he was confused by what had happened to Tsuna, and it messed up his thought process (which may be why it seems that after he gets told about it he starts acting in a wierd way). **

**I put him in America with the Varia due to Hana's comment to Kyouko that 'Ryouhei is overseas meeting up with an Okama' (okama meaning cross-dresser, or slang for a gay person). I'm sure the only 'okama' Ryouhei would know of is Lussuria (who is blatently gay, and for Ryouhei himself at that). So I had him be in upstate New York, which I think is the more country-side type part of the state, I'm not sure... I live in California, so once you leave Los Angelos, everything becomes the countryside...**

**Ah, but, I really wish I knew more about Ryouhei. He's one of my favorite characters, since I love his type. **

**The next chapters are already almost done, I've got Gokudera's written on paper somewhere and Reborn's is in my archive about half-way done. Any other character I'm still only thinking about in my head (Dino, Lal Mirch, Tsuna's parents, ect.) As you may have noticed, Xanxus and other Varia members were featured in this chapter, so please tell me whether or not I should have a seperate chapter or not featuring their reactions alone.  
**

**Please feel free to review if you'd like, I wont force you. Thank you for reading so far!**

**-Rae  
**


	7. Reborn

**Reborn's chapter. I'm sure that, in the cannon setting, he may have died before Tsuna, but he's around just to experience this bit of tragedy first hand in my interpretation.**

**Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of any of the Katekyou Hitman Reborn characters  
**

* * *

_It was cruel._

_Reborn was a hitman. A hired assassin. He spilled blood, for a price. Life bent to his hand, pooled at his feet and sprayed towards the heavens at his whim._

_But dear God was it cruel, staring steadfastly into the eyes of the purest innocence, and accepting what had been said._

_"I'm going to the Millifiore, to meet with Byakuran."_

_Reborn had recalled a deep, tired sigh._

_"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Dame-Tsuna."_

_The cruelest of things, was that knowing smile. Eyes that were warm with half-assed wisdom and a sense of expectancy._

_"Of course you know what I'm doing. You know me best, so I wouldn't begin to get anything past you."_

_And then, they'd stood beside one another, staring out over the hundreds of acres of gardens and land that covered the back Vongola property. The sun was bright, but there were dark clouds coming in from the south. The air held a crisp scent of roses, and, the Decimo's favorite, Italian Passiflora. Reborn shifted while he stared, leaning more of his fully grown body weight against the thick marble ledge of the patio balcony._

_"You know what it means..." he said, a voice laced with a certain warning tone. His skin was burning and his lungs were hurting, again, but it was his choice not to cough now; he had no where to wipe the blood that had been appearing in his palm afterwords. His bones and joints ached from the strain of growing all over again.  
_

_"Yes."_

_A breeze pushed against the two standing under Italy's sun. Birds sang their stories to one another. Reborn could find peace in this environment, yet it was more cold now then what his current sickness was draining from him. He would think that the frigid feeling in his flesh was unrelated to his student's words.  
_

_He hadn't wanted to hear 'yes'._

_"And you're okay, with what this will do? To them?" he asked, dark eyes staring at the sky. The dark clouds in the south kept flickering into his line of sight._

_"...I'm going to believe in them." the words were spoken with the purest truth. They __were the truth. "I'm going to believe that we've all become strong enough, to not let ourselves be defeated by grief."_

_Reborn turned his head, looking over the large, green-skinned Leon sunning himself on his shoulder, and stared at the profile of the Decimo's face._

_"Then you're going for their sake__." he said. A small smile and bright copper eyes was his reward._

_"For them, yes. And for you, Reborn."_

_The Hitman let himself blink slowly, one black eyebrow raising slightly past the brim of his fedora._

_"For me, hn?"_

_Maybe this assassin enjoyed the smiles he received._

_"For you. For the Arcobaleno. For the Vongola. The Chavilone. The Kokuyo. For myself, and Mom and Dad."_

_They were strong declarations. But terribly cruel, considering. It was a list. A list of those who would soon be at a loss. Reborn shifted, so as to stare straight into the amber orbs that he'd raised from a hopeless, withered seed into a towering force._

_"For the mafia, then?" he offered. _

_Yes, he did enjoy the smiles after all._

_"No. Not for the mafia."_

_But they felt cruel._

_"For the World!"_

_

* * *

_

"'For the world', hn..?"Reborn whispered under his breath , his lips set in a frown and suit disheveled.

The air no longer smelled like Passioflora. It was raining, so the scent of sodden grass and dirt drifted in through the open windows of the small, dark study. Hours had past since his return from the Bovino estate. It was well into the night, so deeply that the thundering sky outside was turning to a light gray as the sun lifted itself heavily from the east.

The Persian carpet that laid thick on the floor of the Decimo's main office was littered with blood sodden tissues and a rain soaked Armani suit jacket. Leon clung tight to a desk lamp's bent neck, his colors dark brown and a swarthy tan. The pigment of a distraught chameleon in acute stress.

Reborn eyed his animal companion from his unmoving position laid back in the desk chair. His fingers reached out and lightly stroked the softly rigid skin of Leon's back, the faintest trace of green following his finger across the scales, then disappearing like ripples in a pond. Reborn did nothing more, just stared blankly and stroked the lizard lightly.

Could lizards feel distress? It seemed so, based on many things concerning Leon's unique biology. Could the animal feel grief? Could Leon understand, as his master understood, just what the world had lost?

It had to be so. Reborn could feel it. He felt it crawl across his skin and invade his nerves and arteries. The ache of perdition affecting him unlike what he had expected. He had, after all, been expecting it. He'd been told, in a manner of speaking, that such a thing was going to occur.

His student was dead.

Tsuna, was dead.

He hadn't been there to prevent it. Those who had, were apparently halted in their own attempts. Those who weren't, namely the Sun Gaurdian and his healing flame, were sent away, and would find out later of the atrocities. Maybe if Ryouhei had been present, he'd have been able to heal the Decimo in time, but it seemed unlikely. Even Reborn himself, who's yellow Sun pacifier hung uselessly around his chest would probably have been of no use. Because Tsuna wanted it that way. He'd planned it that way.

Reborn felt a sharp foreboding quiver go through his body. His sat up straight, dark eyes widening slightly as he became alert to a sudden rush. His lungs convulsed, and despite his efforts, bile rose from his stomach and spilled onto the floor.

Leon flexed his toes gripping the lamp's neck, a wave of deep dark brown overtaking his skin pigment while his master sputtered and dry heaved.

Reborn wiped the corner of his mouth on his sleeve, holding his head in his hands and breathing in steady gulps of air. He listened to the rain falling beyond the window; a soft, shattering noise that could disrupt and calm at the same time. He inhaled heavily, pushing himself up, leaning against the bookshelves behind him for support.

It seemed that this illness that had taken hold of him over the past months had entered its final stages over the last couple of days.

Reborn knew his own body better then anyone. All of the Arcobaleno were highly sensitive to each quirk and pang that occurred in their bodies. So when each member of the Cursed Infants had started to develope a strange sickness, they all new it was no coincidence. Someone was targeting the Arcobaleno, and had succeeded with whatever they had done. Who it was that had started the virus was a mystery, at first. Now, as Reborn stood leaning against the bookshelves of a very empty Decimo Vongola office, he knew very well who was behind everything.

And Reborn regretting only the fact that his student went before he did.

Stifling another bought of less severe coughs, the tutor took out his cell phone and punched in a short text message of '_Afternoon; Melon Base: keep it from Lal'. _He sent it off to the recipient '_Army Idiot_' listed in his contact directory. He trusted Colonello would understand the meaning.

Things weren't turning out the way Reborn had thought. For decades the Vongola had maintained a peaceful existence. The other mafia syndicates kept to themselves and though there was an occasional bought of violence, it was always quickly stemmed. Never had Reborn imagined that such terrible things would happen during Tsuna's time in the Boss's chair.

The Italian man found his eyes traveling to the photos that covered the desk's surface. Dozens of smiling (and some serious) faces littered in mismatched frames. There were photos of Lambo at different stages of life, and photos of Gokudera Hayato and Yamamoto Takeshi. Hibari Kyoya and his deep frown, and the Sasagawa siblings beaming brightly. But their faces meant very little to Reborn at that moment. It was the one who appeared smiling brilliantly in the photo beside them all.

_"Naaa, Reborn! Just one photo! Just last month you looked like you were 10 years old, now you look like you're a real teenager! I wont get another chance to see you like this! You could look like an old man by next week at this rate!"_

_"Try it, and I'll shoot you."_

_"Hiiie! Fine fine!"_

Reborn touched the glass separating him and his own unhappy temporary 17-year-old appearance. His other hand trailed fingers lightly on his cheek, wondering why he ended up letting Tsuna jump him and take the picture anyway. Big copper eyes were closed in the photo, as Tsuna (already in his twenties for goodness sakes) had pressed their faces together, cheek-to-cheek, so he could gain that one small moment in time.

It was then that Reborn noticed. All photos of himself and Tsuna were isolated on one side of the desk, the only other photos around them being those with the smiling faces of Iemitsu and Nana, cradling a bouncing toddler (who was repetitively bawling his big brown eyes out). Dino seemed to make appearances in this group as well, the blond man's tattooed arms wrapped possessively around his beloved 'cute little brother'.Those who Tsuna felt were parental, respected figures in his life...

The dark gray of Reborn's irises softened, and he leaned his incredibly tired body further onto the desk.

All that was left of Tsuna now, where these photographs. Frozen faces through the years, innocent young men and women who had no idea what would happen in the future. And he, Reborn himself, selected by Tsuna's hands to be kept with photos of his own true family.

The hitman's body burned. No. It was his eyes, they felt hot and stung in a novel, unaccustomed way. His fingers rose to touch at the soft skin below his lashes, and brought them away, stunned to find that they were wet.

_"For them, yes. And for you, Reborn."_

The Arcobaleno stared into the brilliant smile of his most powerful student. The photo rested in its tarnished silver frame, looking cold to the touch despite it depicting Tsuna standing by the Vongola compound's South Garden during a warm day in Spring, five years ago. Reborn stood perfectly still, for a long moment, just staring and listening to the hurried pattering of the rain pouring down out on the veranda.

"...Tsuna..."

Carefully, he pulled the back panel off the frame, his lips set in a thin line as he took the photo. Pushing himself away from the desk to where his jacket laid on the floor, the hitman shrugged his suit piece on and stuffed the picture into his breast pocket. He felt his cell phone vibrate, and, knowing it was Colonello's reply, he ignored it. He was on his way to meet the man anyway, so it made little difference.

Leon crawled up Reborn's outstretched hand, his steps slow and sluggish, very much like his master's. The lizard's eyes darted aimlessly, his soft skin flickering in dark colors. Reborn closed his eyes, just standing still and silent for a long moment.

It was his turn now.

His stomach warmed, knowing soon he'd be reunited with his brave, strong student.

"Lets go, Leon. To where Tsuna is." the hitman whispered, walking out of the study, his fedora covering sharp coal black eyes. The chameleon on his shoulder released a wave of light green pigment to wash across his scales.

The door of the study thudded closed, empty now. Rain fell outside, the pattering like many small, wet feet; bringing in the scent of passiflora from the gardens. A cool blue light from the hidden rising sun flickered over many picture frames that sat upon the Decimo's desk. Among them, a brunette boy with a honey gold eyes and a light blush smiled, his expression carefree, yet expectant.

-

* * *

-

**I love writing Adult Reborn so much. **

**I hope you enjoyed the read, I really enjoyed writting this chapter.**

**Next chapter may not be released for a while. It will either be Xanxus/Varia, or Dino's, or Gokudera. I'm not sure yet.  
**

**-Rae  
**


	8. Dino Chavillone

**After thinking about who to write next, I made this chapter. Dino isn't really a character I thought would have a very long chapter, and sure enough, it only turned out to be around 2900 word count. Either way, please enjoy it as much as you can.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn, nor affiliated characters  
**

* * *

Dino Chavillone yawned, stretching his long arms up in his leather desk chair, his shoulders and elbows giving satisfying pops. His unruly golden spikes fell into his burnt almond eyes, and with a huff of air he set to work combing back his bangs, a style that was becoming a habit for him as his hair grew longer. Romario was getting on in age, but still made a point to nag at him about getting a hair cut that he always seemed too busy to bother with. It was still strange to think of himself as a 'busy guy', when he'd spent most of his teenage years lazing about and slacking off.

Here he winced, remembering that he was now, in fact, an exhausting 32 years old. Definitely no longer a young man, something Kyouya would remind him of at any given chance.

"Mmmnngh..." the mafia Boss groaned, getting up from his cluttered desk (ink stains, gouges and burn marks from all the times he was left to his selective clumsiness). His office felt cramped at the moment, and maybe that was due to the dim light of only the desk lamp, but it was probably because most of the space was filled with boxes of gifts and souvenirs he'd gathered from all over Europe earlier in the month, all to give to his beloved little brother.

His cute, adorable little brother who he hadn't heard from in several days. That in itself wasn't all that unusual, both he and Tsuna were often busy with Family business, but it seemed strange this time. He had just had lunch with his tawny haired junior, and the younger man had promised to get in touch with him again shortly. He frowned, lifting up a large stuffed animal -possibly a bear or some kind of dog- and giving his best pitiful look while staring into the glass eyes.

He knew that physically and mentally, Tsuna was a full grown adult, but that did very little to stop him from wanting to dote upon his little brother. He couldn't help passing by something in a shop window or street vendor during some kind of festival, taking one look, and buy whatever it was just for the purpose of giving it to the Vongola Decimo.

'_Aah... Dino-san, what is all this?!'_

_'Gifts!'_

_'So many...Why so much?! I'm just one person you know...'_

_'There would have been more, but I ran into Kyouya at the front gate and he said I get in his way...'_

_'Gaah...'_

The fond memories were a welcome relaxant when Dino felt as tired as he was, it being so late at night. He often reminisced of all the good times that filled his life, thankful that they were bright enough to outshine those that came with the title of 'Mafia Boss'. This was one of the main reasons he took any opportunity to see Tsuna as he could; he wanted nothing more then to make the younger boy have brilliant memories that he can look back on when his title began to erode his innocence.

No. That wouldn't ever be the case.

Dino smiled, sitting on his oak framed window sill and staring up at the millions of stars that dusted between the clouds. There were lots of things that made Tsuna, Tsuna. Above everything else though, he had his inner bravado, and his shimmering innocence forever intact. Such bright eyes that would never flicker away, not if those who cherished him most had anything to say about it.

There was a knock on the large polished double doors, quickly followed by Romario's rough voice slip through.

"Boss, theres a guest for you."

"Come in Romario; who is it?"

The door creaked open, and in walked the very aged, yet still faithfully loyal right hand man of the Chavilone 10th boss. Romario opened the door behind him a bit wider, allowing this visitor to follow in his wake.

"Hibari Kyouya here, Boss."

Dino perked up and gave a large grin as his own student strode in with measured steps, his own assistant Tetsuya close behind.

"Kyouya! What brings you here at this time of night? I'm getting a little too old to keep up with your random sparring urges you know! Do you want tea?" the blond mafia don ranted cheerfully, excited over the unexpected guest.

Hibari glanced at Kusukabe, who in turn motioned for Romario to leave with him. Dino's wide grin flickered, seeing the strained, despondent expression on the usually placid man's face. Hibari walked with a seeming purpose through the room to lean his tall frame against the wall beside Dino. This alone made the blond man gape with surprise.

"Eeeh?? Are you sick, Kyouya?" he stammered, reaching to feel his pupil's forehead. Hibari slapped the offending hand away sharply, and Dino was sure that the ripple of pain that went across three of his fingers wasn't going to make holding a pen the next couple of days feel all that great.

"You obviously haven't been told yet." the Vongola's Cloud Guardian observed, his dark brows furrowed in irritation."I was going to just go straight to the airport, but I chose to see if you knew yet first. How stupid of me, now _I'm_ going to have to be the one to tell you."

Dino's golden head flopped to his shoulder in bewilderment. Whatever Kyouya was talking about, it was probably important. No, it was absolutely important. The Japanese man would hardly waste his breath nor his time to come to the Chavilone estate if it was something frivolous.

"Tell me what? It couldn't wait till morning?" the Italian inquired, then caught his words. "Ah! Wait, why were you going to the airport? Where are you off to?" Hibari gave him a cold, calculating stare before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall in a tired sort of way.

"Wait until morning? Well that's fine with me, but then you'd have been delayed in knowing for two days since the actual time it happened." he said. His also added: "I have no plans of telling you where I'm going, so don't waste the world's air supply by asking."

Dino ran his hands up and over his bangs, giving a bit of a scratch to his scalp. His light brown eyes seemed to pout right along with his frowning lips as he stared at his former student.

"Well if it's been put off for that long already, I guess I might as well know now." he said with a light sigh, propping his chin up on his palm, his elbow braced on his knee as he sat precariously on the window sill. Hibari's eyes cracked open, and for a long moment the Cloud Guardian just stared at the high, domed ceiling, studying the cracks and patterns.

"Different from Tsunayoshi's office..." he muttered under his breath. Dino chuckled.

"Yeah well, the Chavilone mansion is Chavilone, and the Vongola mansion is Vongola." he said, his eyes closed in a cheery smile. Hibari glanced at him, surveying him for a long moment, the light ice grey of his eyes flickering with... something. Dino was unsettled by it, as he always had been since years and years ago.

But this time, that gaze felt different. Something that Kyouya lacked, a nameless quality that was so foreign that it could be easily passover over as spiteful. But it wasn't spite. It was something that Dino would be unable to name in a thousand years.

"What do you think of this world, Bucking Horse...?" the dark haired man suddenly inquired. Dino was slightly taken aback at the question, not expecting such a meaningful inquiry to come from his normally no-nonsense former pupil. The blond man stumbled over his own thoughts for a moment or two before answering.

"Well... Does it matter what I think of it? The world is going to go at its own pace regardless of what people think of it." he stated. Hibari stared at him for a moment, then smirked and gave a sharp exhale, looking back to the ceiling.

"Stupid. So much for wisdom coming with age." he remarked, causing his ex-tutor to pout childishly.

"Well what kind of question was that anyway?! If you want to go to someone's house in the middle of the night to ask things like that, don't you have your own Boss you can bother!" the Italian whined, but then caught himself. "No wait! Don't bother Tsuna while he's sleeping... he needs all the rest he can get, what with that kind of... stressful... job..." he trailed off, eyes suddenly fixed on his guest's rigid posture.

"...Kyouya?"

Hibari's dark brow twitched, and the younger man seemed to experience a flurry of thoughts all that apparently highly irritated him. Dino sat at stared, the whole reaction strange to him.

"Kyouya, what's wrong with you?" he prodded, his hair tousling about from a frigid night breeze sweeping across the lower gardens hidden from view, concealed by night. Hibari's eyes cracked open and dragged upward until they met once more with the Chavilone Decimo.

"This world...Everything is going to change." he stated softly, in a tone that sent a violent shudder down the older man's spine. Dino swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry.

_'Don't say it.'_

"Kyouya... what..."

_'I'm begging you, please, Kyouya...'_

Hibari's stare penetrated everything, and as the dim light of the desk lamp reflected into his impossible eyes, Dino's blood curdled. His student was completely clean, but he suddenly smelt of metallic copper. The iron grit of blood.

'_No.'_

"Tsunayoshi is dead."

And then, Dino thought nothing of the world. It may as well not exist. Humanity fell away from him in thick, vicious splinters that continued to fall until everything was at his feet; sharp, bestial things, this hideous world. He stood in a life now that he'd thought of as only a place someone who could understand would be able to stand beside him.

_'No.'_

Nothing much more was said. Hibari stared at the ceiling quietly, occasionally closing his eyes for a moment, as though wanting to picture something, then opening slowly with a heaviness that may suggest regret. Dino too, just stared. His lips were parted, hazel eyes wide from the impact. Suddenly the gifts and novelty items strewn about the office were ironic, a saline burn in newly torn flesh.

"...Millifiore?" the blond man whispered, blood thrumming loudly in his ears. Hibari glanced over.

"That's right."

The dark emotions began stirring in Dino's light heart. It's rhythmic pumping grew faster and made his body shake down to his very fingertips. His body convulsed; burning as though his heart was being cut away from him. His eyes kept loosing control, momentarily rolling up into the back of his head before he could bring them back into focus by clutching his temple, his fingernails digging into the scalp.

"Tsuna... Tsuna would have put up a fight... He can't be ki-... he can't be beaten so easily!!" he insisted more to himself then his guest. Hibari sighed and moved to stare out of the window.

"Indeed."

Over on the cluttered desk, among the untouched souvenir Eifle Towers and Empire State buildings, a Box Weapon began vibrating and shuddering across the surface. Dino staggered to the side, leaning his back against the wall and slowly sliding down onto the antique Persian rug. His stomach was empty, but he felt sick. He felt like vomiting, but couldn't. There was a chance that if he opened his mouth, Kyouya would hear all the dark, dark things that he kept away. The caliginous thoughts he once thought he could hide away, only to find it wasn't just him as a Mafia Don that had such mind nubming things inside...

His little brother... his beloved, innocent little brother...

"I'm going to travel now, in case you'd ever care to pull yourself together enough to wonder about it. You don't need to know where, and even if you did I'm not going to tell you." Hibari said, his tone a bit cold and dismissive, but with an edge that had a bit of pity. Maybe that was it all along, since Kyouya walked in. Part of the Japanese man was feeling a small bit of pity for the severe wound reality was about to cut into his former Teacher.

The dark haired man sighed, staring down at the pile of pathetic life shuddering on the carpet. Such a strange, alien sight...

"It's not over, Bucking Horse." he muttered, turning to the door. Dino's violently shaking hands drew away from his face only enough to look up through blurred eyes.

How could he say that?

Tsuna was gone. The innocence that Tsuna had retained for years, the very same purity that being involved in the disgusting darkness of the Mafia didn't rip apart... gone. Simply snuffed out as absently as one would extinguish a lone candle. How was it not over? How could Kyouya promise that Dino could wake up tomorrow and drive to the Vongola estate, where he'd be greeted by bright, brilliant golden-copper eyes under sloppily combed bangs.

"This World..." Kyouya stopped at the door, his lips barely moving as he spoke. " Everything will fall into place. Because it is the will of _that_ man..."

He paused.

"He did it for the sake of this World..."

There was a heavy thud, and Dino was left to stare at his own office double doors, the engraved gold handles tarnished and chipped from age.

_"I know that I'm not the smartest, the best looking, or most athletic guy around, even after all these years... and, I still think 'Ah, a normal life would be great!'. But that's not my life. This Family, My family, _this_ is my life. Dino-san, this is your life too. We have to bear things, many painful things. I think sometimes, that it would be nice if none of it existed, but it's... it's good that it does. Being with everyone, every day smiling and laughing and staying beside everyone... I'll take on all the darkness in the world. And, Dino-san, We can, because we're the Sky. And sometimes, the Sky becomes dark, but, I promise, the next day will always come."_

Dino dropped onto his side against the floor, his legs curling up against his waist. Thirty-two years of life, yet he could forget it all and turn back into a child for the sake of the occasion. He fisted his hair, gritting his teeth against a hard lump that clawed at the back of his throat and eyes. An odd sensation, like he was choking on his own life.

"Tsuna..."

His heart was not as light as it had been. He was the Don to the third oldest Mafia Famigila in the world. He was the Sky over his family, and right now, he had been left in the darkness of night...

The box weapon under the messily thrown papers and gifts on the large oak desk vibrated riotously, thrumming and shaking with the connected emotions of its master.

"Tsuna... I'll make sure... a new day comes this time too..."

A whispered promise Dino Chavilone would give up his dark, stained life, and any other he could ever give, to protect.

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**A long delay, and after thinking of who to write next, I wrote Dino's. I really really like Dino, but I feel like he is an EXTREMELY complex man. He seems like the type to be casual and goofy on the outside, but an insanely intelligent and calculating mafia boss on the inside, albeit one who might devote himself to his own emotions. He seems like an emotionally wanton type to me.**

**Dino thinks very highly of Tsuna, because both he and Tsuna lead lives they didnt really want to when they were young, and they're rather violent and grungy lives at that.**

**Well I hope this was enough for now. I'm still working on some other chapters. I've got three more in the works so far, and there is much tweaking to do. Its a hassle when I'm writing these things and then the plot goes whacky in the actual manga so I have to re-write something ahahaha**

**Well, please stay tuned for more, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you!**

**Rae  
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	9. Gokudera Hayato

**One of the most emotional chapter in this series... well I tried to make it that way anyway..  
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**Please enjoy it for what its worth.**

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**Gokudera Hayato wanted to drown.

If only this rain that thundered down upon his body would fill his smoke blackened lungs and take him away from the nightmare that had become all too real. Drop by drop, taking him farther and farther away from this horror that had enveloped his whole world.

He laid limp and battered, arms stretched out as though crucified against the steps of the Vongola Mansion. His eyes were open only just, mere slivers of ashen green streaming with thin rivers of pooled precipitation. A similar sight to tears, but there were none left. He'd run out hours ago, wasting his body's entire supply. Too many tears, in too fast a moment.

How long had it taken, for his entire life to come crashing down around him, separated only by a sheet of glass? His whole world, the center of his universe..

A hard, deep pressure had him pinned against the steps of the mansion. It started in his chest, bottomless and bestial, clawing and biting with claws and fangs, ripping what was already shattered and inexorably broken. The torn flesh of grief and hopelessness filled his body with acidic flames of putrid regret.

He could feel _him_ all over his his skin and clothes; his hair and bangs dyed a dark rust orange-red as the rain washed away what was left. The center of his whole World dripped away from his body and ran diluted down the marble steps, a slow swirled red. Gokudera felt him. The dark cling of him, holding to his numb fingers and under his nails and on his abdomen under his shirt and everywhere, _everywhere_.

Even now, _he_ was everywhere.

The Storm flinched. He kept still, perfectly petrified and limp, even when that heavy sound of hard shoes stepped passed him. The man appointed 10th generation Vongola Outside Consultant hardly glanced at him, and for the first time, it didn't matter to Gokudera in the least.

Hibari Kyouya, who had hardly expressed a reaction. Hibari, who could leave that person's side without batting an eye to go off on his own accord. Hibari, who knew that all it took was standing close (_too close, get away from him, you're too close)_, a brush with his pale thin finger against a soft hand in the passing of a document, any small inconsequential act to send Gokudera into a fit of jealous rage.

He recalled all the times he'd scared himself with the thoughts he had toward Sasagawa Kyouko. The dreams he had of wrapping his fingers around her thin little neck and removing her from the picture entirely.

He's had hated himself for just grinning and acting the fool while she hung off _His a_rm, _kissed_ Him while dusty green eyes watched from the sidelines and all Gokudera could do was bite the inside of his lip and flood his mouth with the warm taste of iron.

He could never look _Him _in the eye while she was still around. His guilt from the dreams and thoughts of killing the youngest Sasagawa off to eliminate the threat of her would increase whenever he saw the two together. Every assassination mission he went on, every enemy he mutilated, had that woman's face. He killed her a thousand times in his mind, and it left him bitter and undeserving of the smiled greetings he received when returning home.

When finally, finally she was removed from the picture by Tsuna himself, 'broken up' as it were, Gokudera hadn't felt much better. It gave him little satisfaction in his heart.

Because the jealousy was still there when they'd decided to remain 'friends'. When she'd stop by the mansion, and he'd see her look at the small back of his Boss with eyes Gokduera knew all too well. It never went away, the all-consuming jealous rage.

Jealousy. What would become of his jealousy now? It's what had made everything worse in the end. And indeed, this was that 'end'. His flaming, scalding jealous fury that enveloped his heart like nothing else when those copper-penny eyes looked at anyone other then him. All it did was build each passing year (months, weeks, days, every minute, every _second_), making his bond to that person stronger and stronger.

It didn't matter anymore. It was for nothing.

What had he to feel that sensation over now? Hibari Kyouya, the honored Outside Consultant, a rival for Right Hand Man if anything at all, meant absolutely nothing now. So Gokudera did nothing; no reaction as the man stepped down past him and into a waiting car. The sound of the engine growling low into the distance before the roar of the downpour took away everything else once again.

This rain... Where was Yamamoto, anyway? Was he crying yet? Was it his turn to drain his tear ducts dry and empty his stomach contents upon re-living everything that had just happened, over and over and over again in his head? Or was he keeping it in, until, knowing him, he'd implode upon himself and head for the nearest roof top just like so many years ago?

How dare he. What did he know. His shit eating grin that had always made that person smile and laugh so lightly, the way his damned arm would pull him around the shoulders innocently enough on the outside, but Gokudera had always been able to see it.

So then what was supposed to happen next..? What was left?

A violent tremor -shocking and unexpected- shot through Hayato's body, and, as though the domino had been tipped to set off the others, the edges of his soul curled inward, and shattered.

"_I'll be... okay."_

Cold, wet silver rings braced as his fingers pulled into fists against the marble steps. Skin split as fingernails dug into the pale flesh of Gokudera's palm, his knuckles turning ice-white. Slowly, he let his left fist rise and hang in the air for a moment, suspended in the rain, shaking, and then it was brought down hard and sharp. There was an audible '_crack'_ as his clenched fingers slammed against the polished stone. Again and again until his arm would no longer lift itself to continue.

Physical pain ate its way up his nerves. It was nothing, the pain paling in comparison to everything else, even though his fingers were now bruised and split and bent at unnatural angles.

It had only taken fractions of one second for everything Gokudera Hayato lived for to be taken away from him. What were left of promises now, in the world that he no longer cared to hold a place in. He didn't want to live for anything else but that one purpose. Not for his half-sister, not for the memory of his mother, and not for that man who he'd idolized as a child. Not for any of them.

But for Tsuna.

Tsuna was all he had ever wanted to live for.

"...Jyuudaime..." the whisper left his pale lips and fell to the rain. The precious tittle whispered softly and broken, containing all the misery and sorrow Gokudera could fathom. The tears came, but at the same time, very much didn't. Couldn't. His eyes burned hotly, staring into the swirling, undulating darkness of the storm clouds, but couldn't do much on their own with the rain that pelted down.

The sky was crying in his place. Golden, copper-penny eyes shed tears for his sake.

He always had, hadn't he? Tsuna had always been the one that would make sacrifices, despite having Gokudera by his side willing to do anything _anything_ to make him happy. But still, it was always Tsuna and his smile (_the way his lips pulled up just slightly, in a simple way, but brilliant_), his smile and lasting innocence that stepped in to be the lamb that would go to slaughter without a second thought. The only difference now, was that that 'slaughter' was now no longer metaphorical.

Anything and everything that was good in the world had been utterly _slaughtered_ before Gokudera's stormy green eyes.

And still, that smile had lasted until he had been torn away with clawing fingers and thrashing limbs, screaming his throat to tatters. The smile that knew of sacrifice and knew of loyalty, and fit so perfectly into the silver haired Italian's heart it could be said he'd been born to bend at the knees and offer his everything just to receive that smile and have the honor of being graced with such an angelically innocent and pure being.

Gokudera's tweaked and bent fingers, tinted in a mixture of red yellow and blue from bruises and the cold, twitched in wanton grief.

".._.Please..." _The word was hushed from the back of his dry, rough throat, as weak and useless and pitiful as any of the words that tore from him hours ago, when he'd screamed and torn raw his vocal chords the same name over and over again. Denial and insults he'd screamed too, threats of death to those trying to pry loose his fingers from thin blood spattered hands that were limp in his own. At one point he was sure he'd switched back into Italian as his mind unraveled.

An acidic pool built once more in the pit of his stomach as a memory of dark red and white rushed through him.

Red on his hands. Red on his cloths. Red on that beautiful face. Red around those breath-taking copper eyes. Red on trembling fingers that very briefly tightened with a soft pressure, then went still. Red on the white marble floors, white petaled lilies, white knuckles clutching fist-fulls of white pinstripe suit. A world of white stained red.

_"I'll be... okay."_

Finally Gokudera moved from his crucified position on the steps, wrenching himself onto his hands and knees to purge the rising acidic denial and self-hatred that filled his stomach. His shoulders convulsed and shuddered until only the metallic taste on his lips remained dripping away with the falling deluge. He'd wanted to vomit at the images that burned into him forever, but nothing was left.

His stomach was empty. His tears were empty. His heart was empty. His World was gone.

Gone.

"_... Please don't leave me..."_

Forever.

The rain fell hard on the Storm Guardian's body as it laid still against the steps of the Vongola mansion. The sky mixed with its sad colors, crying and mourning in its dark greys and blacks. Time eclipsed, and there was nothing more that could sum up the man who laid face down in the rain. He simply lay there, images of his world all he had left in an existence that he no longer could find a place in.

A world that was filled with warm coppers, oranges, honey-golds, and soft pink lips that only just barely lifted at the corners.

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"_I love you, I love you, I **love** you, more then anyone, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, please please forgive me, I love you-"_

Words, too many words all at once rushing, thundering through Gokudera's head in the small forest clearing. His chest -empty and vacant for days he'd had numbered, but now couldn't recall- burned hotly and savagely for a reason he never thought he'd ever be able to experience again.

"Eh... that face... can it be..."

The voice was higher pitched, wavering and prodding with that familiar curiosity. Gokudera fell apart at his seams.

"**Jyuudaime**!!" he gripped hard at the small arms in his hands that were so large against the tiny frame. His knees collapsed under him, the soft grass crushing under his weight. His fingers held tightly on to the warm flesh of this thin, teenage body, hard enough he could feel the bruising as he pressed soft muscle and sinew against bone.

"I'm sorry..!! I'm so sorry!!" in the end, apologies won out over his desire to act upon the feelings he'd been left to fold inward into the back of his dark mind.

He was sorry.

So sorry for everything.

Sorry for the dark cherry wood coffin with its tarnished silver 'X'. Sorry for isolating himself from the Famigilia after that night that had shattered everything he believed. Sorry for never understanding. Sorry for failing. Sorry for letting go of that thin hand in the world of red and white. Sorry for his jealousy. Sorry for loving his Boss so intensely that it made everything the more excruciating, even now, when big brown eyes under tawny bangs stared at him with shock and confusion.

"Wha-?! Hey, it really hurts!!" Tsuna cried (_Tsuna, it was Tsuna_). Gokudera released his grip with a muttered 'sorry...', and inwardly he wondered how it was so easy to do when the last time he'd let go, it nearly destroyed him.

"I'm sure it's going to be hard to believe, but I was hit by Lambo's Ten-Year bazooka by accident." The smaller version of the 10th Vongola sky said with a blush of embarrassment. Gokudera's hopes were crushed at those words.

"I see.. then, only five minutes..."

Only five minutes. Only five minutes, this one chance he had to say anything, do anything he wanted with his Boss's younger self here in front of him. He could do anything.

Anything.

He could take the opportunity to change things forever, tell him how much he loved him, and change the past in his favor. But, alas, he'd have to change his past and present; this Tsuna's future. He had to put aside the burning acidic feelings in his stomach for the sake of ensuring everything would be okay when the five minutes were up.

"Listen carefully, Boss..." he began. "Please, when you go back to the past, remember this moment and do exactly as I say."

He could see his words were only startling the young boy in the polished wood coffin.

"There's no time for details." _Stop looking at me with those eyes, or I wont be able to... "_When you go back to the past, you must eliminate this person imediately!"

Here he pulled out the photo he'd stored in his poket. The man with rusty red hair and thick coke-bottle glasses.

"What-?! Eliminate?! By that you mean..?!"

He'd predicted that the younger version of his Boss would react in horror-struck surprise at the thought of taking another's life. But god if he could do it just this once..!

"This is Irie Shouichi. This is a picture of him from my time, but you should have met him in your freshman year of middle school."

Big copper eyes stared with dilated confusion. The darkness in Gokudera's heart, all that was left of himself after being pried away from his sole reason for existing, flared upwards. His eyes contorted with hatred at the thought of flickering hazel eyes behind thick glasses and orange-red bangs.

"If only that person didn't exist..." _then you'd still be by my side _"Then Byakuran wouldn't be like this."

"Eh? Byaku...ran?" the young teen repeated. There was silence for a moment, and those golden eyes flickered down to the wood his small hands were gripping.

"The next thing I'm going to say is a precaution-"

"Wait! I want to ask, why am I in a coffin?!"

_"JYUUDAIME, NO!"_

_"Don't leave me! Please don't leave me-!!"_

A world of red stained white bit into the center of Gokudera's eyes, and he felt himself crumbling all over again.

"Why is the future me... in a coffin?" said copper-penny eyes under tawny bangs. Gokudera's eyes were hot. His stomach churned. Why did it have to be him? Why did that idiotic cow brat have to shoot Tsuna at the exact time Gokudera was paying his daily respects? Why couldn't it have been when any of the others had been visiting?

Why did he have to have his unhealing wounds ripped further open by such an innocent question?

"Thats... because..."

He couldn't say it. He couldn't say the reason.

And then there was a pull and tightening over every inch of his body. He immediately recognized the feeling, and was at ease. He truely could no longer keep staring into eyes that made him fall apart any more. He couldnt answer a question that was asked so innocently of him. He hoped, in the last seconds before light colored smoke filled his senses, that he would never have to answer that question again.

That whatever world he returned to, wouldn't be stained with white and red.

He prayed to be returned to his own World. The center of his Universe.

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**Short but to the point. I didn't know if I should include the meeting with 14-year old Tsuna, since I preferred leaving it off with Gokudera's thoughts in the rain.**

**True there is no proof that Gokudera loves Tsuna romantically in the manga, but I think he's got to. It's something I want to believe in, and can't really imagine Gokudera not having deeper feelings for him.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was very touching to write, since its a very direct-from-the-heart feeling of loss that had to be conveyed. (I must have listed to 'Only One' by Yellow card about a thousand times while writing this, and I dont even like Yellow Card...).**

**Next chapters will be around in a couple of days or weeks, I'm not sure. The next character is a little tricky to describe, since his intentions are always mysterious.  
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**Thank you for your reviews and support.**


	10. Byakuran

**This chapter is very short due to it being part 1 of the final 2 chapters (Byakuran's and Tsuna's p.o.v I had planned as one chapter, then split them to make it a smoother separation). **

**There would be more chapters, but I think that by this point, its getting repetitive... Well, either way, please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn nor any affiliated characters  
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Byakuran smiled with a pleasant, jovial concord.

'_Strongest Don since the First Vongola_', indeed.

He brushed a hand through his thick white spikes, tousling them about. His company in the limo, a very silent Irie Shouichi, became the object of his gaze. He studied the red haired man with a playful smile, light purple eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Shou-chan." he prodded, and the man twitched before looking up. Byakuran could see it in his underling's eyes, the thoughts flying too rapidly to hold on to. The poor genius was most likely shell shocked, rattled from his first kill.

And what a kill it had been. Granted Shouichi only finished what Byakuran had started, as such was many a case concerning the Millifiore Don.

"Are you not feeling well? You look a little pale." he said, eyes closing gently. "Would you like some water?"

Here he offered a bottle with an outstretched hand. Shouichi tentatively reached out to take it, then withdrew sharply, turning his head away while biting at the inner flesh of his lip. Byakuran raised an eyebrow, then smiled.

"Ah, sorry sorry! It seems some of Tsuna-kun has been left behind, hasn't it?" he drawled in a snake-like, eerily cheerful voice as he stared at the spattering of blood on his hand. A gaze burned into the white haired man, and here he looked to the back of the limousine, eyes sharpening and smile becoming more animal-like.

"Princess." he acknowledged, eying the young girl who sat perfectly still in her seat, large hat not shadowing her small features. Her large dark purple eyes gazed blankly straight forward. It would seem she stared at Byakuran, though it would be more accurate to say she was staring straight past him, into nothingness and space.

"I'm terribly sorry you couldn't attend the meeting, Uni-chan. Did you want to see Tsuna-kun? He had been so cute; a very cute Boss, like you!" he said, waving his blood spotted hand as if it were the Vongola Decimo in person. Uni simply stared, her expression vacant, somewhere far away from where she sat. Shouichi gave a violent twitch, a small drop of blood detaching from Byakuran's hand and spattering onto his trouser leg.

"Ah... I'm sorry Shou-chan. This kind of thing, its messy, isn't it?" the white haired man sighed with a sort of pleased, false irritation. Shouichi clutched his mouth, tilting his head back and breathing in deeply through his nose. His Boss frowned, brows furrowed in concern as he scooted over to lean his body against the young red head.

"Shou-chan... you are really feeling unwell? Now now..." Byakuran soothed, his lips flickering into a quick smirk as he cupped the other man's chin in his blood spattered hand, the flash in Shouichi's eyes testament to the tremor of horror that rolled over his quivering shoulders. Byakuran gave a light chuckle, wrapping one arm around his underling and sending a pout over the the silent girl in the back.

"Nah, Uni-chan. Come comfort Shou-chan, he's feeling sick. Didn't you take care of those from the Gesso family?" he prodded. Uni had no reaction. Byakuran enjoyed it, but wanted more, to see how far he could push the limits of his control. It was a ground breaking occasion, after all. This day was one of celebration for him, so why not enjoy it?

"Pity though, you couldn't help care for your dear mother, not matter how sick she became. And in the end, she left you behind." he smirked, watching those great deep eyes now flicker rapidly, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"Byakuran-sama..." Shouichi breathed, clutching his stomach with one hand as the other touched lightly on the white haired Boss's shoulder. Byakuran could feel the digits trembling, and it made him chuckle under his breath.

"Shou-chan, really, whats wrong? Aren't you pleased with this? Isn't today a marvelous occasion?" his light, gleaming purple irises shimmered dangerously against Shouichi's dilated green under heavy lenses. "Didn't you tell me when we met? 'I want to help change the world', that's what you said, wasn't it?"

Irie held his hand against his mouth, as though protecting himself against any chances of gastronomic purges.

"Shou-chan." Byakuran wondered if there was a limit to how much he was enjoying this.

"_We killed him,_ Shou-chan. Just like we planned."

Everything in Byakuran's hands was merely a game of Choice.

A long time ago, this pathetic man with his coke-bottle glasses and shaking fingers, came to him with the apparent desire to change the world. Byakuran had never questioned Shouichi before, not when the Japanese man had been the one to introduce such a wonderful game to him in the first place. It was clear however, that there was more then doubt in Irie's eyes as each bullet had punctured the flesh of the Vongola Decimo.

But it was too late to stop anything now, the wheels of change and uprising were already in motion. The police and governments of the world were powerless to resist, and oh so easily corrupted by money and promises. They'd never posed a threat to those in the mafia in the first place, living with green eyes and wanton souls, clutching at material possessions.

Byakuran often wondered whether or not he himself appeared greedy, but then decided it really didn't matter. It wasn't that he _wanted_ everything, it's that everything was already his to begin with. It was simply that no one knew it yet. But there had been one thing he couldn't hold in the palm of his hands, one thing he couldn't smother away quickly, and it had posed a bothersome obstacle.

Sawada Tsunayoshi refused the power he offered. Refused it with eyes that had been much like the little Princess Uni's. Headstrong behind innocence; bravery under nativity. The eyes of a fool.

But now, both problems were under his control. Tsunayoshi was dead, and little Uni sat across from him, her blank eyes silent and wrapped around his finger; quiet and captured.

He recalled the checkmate that had won both ends for him, in this, his most favorite game. The simple words strung into a phrase that strung into a victory that was simply obvious from the start. Fools with soft hearts and what others would call 'bravery', simply were, in the end, just people who watched those around them fall, one by one. Uni had known it, and in her moment of weakness, had fallen into his hand so nicely. Tsunayoshi had known it to be true as well, and this was inevitably why he came to the proposed 'meeting of the families'.

Tsunayoshi chose to sacrifice himself and the entire Vongola for the sake of protecting them. This was, Byakuran was sure, how it would seem through the eyes of the Vongola Decimo who thought of noble things and trusted in the honor of others. However, Byakuran had every intention of wiping out every last Vongola despite killing off the man who controlled them. It was Tsunayoshi's fault for not simply dedicating himself to Byakuran's plan for the new world. Had he simply become like the young Uni, and followed by his side obediently, the Vongola Family would be spared and tucked under the Millifiore's wing.

But Tsunayoshi had chosen to die, and it was just as well. He'd made his choice, it was written across the stained white floors and walls of that room. Tsunayoshi's choice was spilled and spattered upon Byakuran's bleach white uniform and smeared on Shouichi's cheek. It had been his choice, and that was all there was of it. A foolishly nobel choice.

But it was simply how the game was played. First a choice is made, and then everything falls into place.

"Tell me, Shou-chan, in our little game," the white haired man spoke quietly with his head resting back on the seat, a grin on his lips "what comes next?"

Shouichi swallowed hard, gripping his stomach and shutting his eyes.

"... W-we make the last choice...Byakuran-sama..." he said, voice rough and weak about the edges. Byakuran opened his eyes a crack, peering at both his red headed commander and his little Princess.

"Shou-chan, I'd like to hear you say what that is. For me?"

Green eyes under thick coke-bottle lenses closed.

"... N-now... we change the world..."

Lips curled upward.

"_Perfetto."_

_

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_**Final Chapter/ Series finally to follow...**


	11. Sawada Tsunayoshi

**Tsuna's chapter.**

**Finally.**

**Disclaimer: **** I do not own Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn nor any affiliated characters**

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_"Arrividerchi, Tsuna-kun."_

There is, in almost every case, a moment of complete silence after a great catastrophe.

A highly filtered quiet; thick and encompassing. This silence comes while blood is still traveling though the air, while the pistol's barrel only just begins to deposit smoke, everything suspended in time and space. It came just as readily in _that_ instant. Soon, though, the silence would be broken, having only lasted but a flicker of time when the eyes adjust and register what is being laid out before them. Then, the pupils dilate to extremes, and everything seems to hover on the brink of some great mysterious chasm.

Then, the screams.

"_JYUUDAIME-!!"  
_

_"TSUNA-!! NO!!"  
_

The Guardians, keepers of the Vongola's Sky, ripped their throats with the cries of utter terror, horrified at the blood pooling upon the white marble floor and dripping down the walls. Gunshots and echoes of ring-boxes opening tore the silence apart further.

Copper eyes stared upward from the cold, blood matted floors, trying to focus on the gathering faces that were so warmly familiar.

That silver hair, grey-green eyes filled with horrified disbelief. Then just to the left, dark brown irises under short black bangs were the widest the Vongola Boss had yet to see, so it was maybe a relief that they clenched tightly such beneath furrowed eyebrows a second later. Just beyond the Storm and the Rain, Vongola's Dicimo could see the stationary Cloud. Yet that person was growing blurry, the most striking feature that left them recognizable was that ever present silhouette of a perfect posture and steel-grey eyes. The Mist was busy elsewhere among the destruction, judging from the sounds of that bell-like voice screaming incomprehensibly. This was a sad thing. The Mist should not have had to bear witness, not her.

There was a distinct absence of the Sun, or Thunder at this time, and it was a warm relief. The Tenth Vongola closed his eyes slowly, and he could hear the panicked voices blend. What a strange sound, that tone of soul-splitting distress...

"_Open you're eyes Tsuna, keep them open!"_

"_Its fine..! If we just get a medical squad here.. it'll be fine!_"

"_His heart rate is slowing... He's... he's not breathing!!"_

_"**No** Tsuna, please open your eyes!!"_

Tsuna smiled, absent and light, for he was very tired now. Hearing all their voices meant that they were safe; alive. He had protected them all sufficiently. Being a Mafia boss meant you gave yourself to the Family, and he had known since he accepted his role years ago that he would always do just that, no matter what.

Millifiore; Byakuran. That white haired man could kill him, and it seemed likely that's indeed what had happened, but he could not hurt his family anymore. His family will become more determined now. Knowing them (and Tsuna did), they would not give up. They would become stronger allied together under the threat of total destruction.

_"Tsuna! **Tsuna**!! Come on, please! Ryouhei..! Why the hell isn't Ryouhei here?!__"_

_"Jyudaime, don't do this! Don't!!"_

_"The medical unit is on it's way...!!"  
_

The Vongola's Sky drifted in, then back out, and then in again. The voices -his beloved family of Guardians- all intermixed. They were screaming things. Begging unknown patrons saints for something; anything. Tsuna wondered if he was smiling still. He felt like he should be smiling, even though his body was filled with sadness. Sadness, but not regret.

"_Jyuudaime, no! Non vada per favore! Svegliare per favore__! Per favore, per favore!!"_

Had they just been talking in an everyday setting, Tsuna would have commented to Gokudera exasperatedly about the fact that Italian was wasted on someone like him, who didn't know much more besides greetings and broken phrases. Ah, but it seemed the Storm had forgotten his audience in the sudden turn of events, and abandoned Japanese to begin ranting in his fluent tongue. Screaming , even, if anything else.

"_Tsuna! Tsuna! Open your eyes Tsuna! Look at me! Just open your eyes and look at me!! Tsuna?!"_

No, they wouldn't open no matter how insistent Yamamoto was. It was a shame, too. Tsuna would have liked to see many things just once more, if only he could. But it was okay too, it was alright. He could hear them still, and that was just as well.

He noted that the Cloud was silent. It was expected. Considering many things, it was no surprise that Hibari chose to only take the opportunity to kill as many Millifiore as he could sink his teeth into. That was fine, there was nothing really he could do anyway.

Credit to him though, for shattering the doors Tsuna had used as a barring mechanism between himself and the Guardians. He was slightly startled to see how bothered Hibari had suddenly become, even though he'd known what was going to happen for many days before it actually did. Perhaps the Cloud Guardian had reconsidered the plan after seeing it take place before his own eyes. Maybe he had his own doubts when Tsuna closed those doors between them.

Slowly, the cacophony began to fade, like water was filling too small a space. Like sinking into an ocean without a bottom, watching the flickering light dance above the surface, but setting aside the desire to reach out for it.

Tsuna wondered if Shouichi would be okay. He was never sure about that boy. He had great respect and believed in the chronically nervous redhead's abilities and loyalty, but Shouichi would be under the weight of the world now. The challenge of withstanding Byakuran's hypnotic suggestion was _so _extreme, Tsuna wouldn't blame the man if he just bent under the pressure and allied himself with Millifiore in the end.

The look in those wide hazel eyes under coke-bottle lenses as Tsuna felt the hot sting of bullet entry was more painful then the fatal wound itself. He prayed Shouichi could hold on for just a little while longer.

_"The medics are here, give them space! Gokudera, get away! Let them take him!"_

_"No! Soggiorno indietro! Siete tutti i bastardi, soffiorno indeitro!!"_

_"Gokudera, shut the fuck up and let go! He's _gone_!!"_

_"No, no, perfavore..!! Jy-Jyuudaime, please! You can't! _No_!! **Please don't leave me**-!!"_

Though the sound of the screams and shouting turned into dull, muffled echoes, Tsuna could feel Gokudera's painful heart-ache through what little was left of his conscious. Fingers clutched and reached for him as the Storm was pulled from him forcibly. He wished his dim eyes could still see, but was glad they didn't. He wanted to go with the images of smiling faces and embarrassed grins, like a projector film with crackling light; a warm and familiar golden hue.

He thought of everyone he was leaving behind, leaving to become stronger and change the fate of the world. He'd tried in vain to separate himself from most of them in the days leading up to this very point in time, but it had been so hard...

His Lightning Guardian, still so young, was probably scuffing his feet around the Bovino mansion, and wouldn't find out until later the real reason why he was ordered to stay home. Lambo would cry when he was told. He'd cry for a long, long time, but he'd grow up to be the strong, brave man Tsuna had seen many years ago in the Ring Battles.

His Sun Guardian, he'd sent away to the Varia. Ryouhei had the healing flame, and if he'd gotten the opportunity, might have put a hitch in the plans. Though it was sad that the Boxer would have to be told of what happened here in Italy by Xanxus and the others -something that probably wouldn't be done very delicately- it had to , the thought of Ryouhei led to the thought of his younger sister. Tsuna hoped she'd be spared the knowledge for as long as possible, and hopefully she didn't even have to know before things were put right again. It was the same for Haru as well, and his mother. In truth though, part of Tsuna knew that they would find out before things could change...

His Rain Guardian,Yamamoto, he hoped to be as brave and strong as he'd always been. He knew the man hid many things behind a goofy grin, but his eyes when his hands lifted a blade told the truth. Yamamoto had been staring with such wide, disbelieving eyes; a strange and unfitting expression. Tsuna would remember the feel of his rough, warm hands clutching his own in his final moments. Yamamoto would probably be too shell-shocked to offer much comfort to the others, as he would normally.

The Mist would come in two parts, as sad as that would be. Chrome had seen it all happen; a sever miscalculation. Tsuna hadn't wanted her to see, not such a delicate thing as her. She was a powerful illusionist, but prone to fits of distraught panic, and she'd looked so very confused through the fog of his blurring eyes and the smoke of the ring-flames. She would no doubt go to Mukurou for solace.

But Tsuna was scared for what Mukuro would do when he finds out what took place here.

Up until now, he'd avoided the man, promised meetings he wouldn't keep just to be thrown off trail. If Mukurou had been present when the first bullet penetrated the Sky, both Vongola and Millifiore alike would be caught up in his unpredictable fit of emotion. No doubt that whoever gave him the news of what took place in this large white office, would be subjected to the violent confusion and anger that would erupt. Mukurou would no doubt begin to act recklessly, and would most likely get himself caught between worlds for it.

His Cloud Guardian.... Hibari already knew exactly what he needed to do. It was Hibari's turn now, to fulfill his end of the plan and keep up the arrangements. He'd been very cool about the whole idea when Tsuna had first explained it. His eyes were calm and collected as he nodded in understanding of what he needed to accomplish. However, through the plate glass doors, for a brief moment, he'd looked unnatural. Scared.

The Storm. Oh Gokudera... With the thought of crying dusty-green eyes and the sounds of his deep voice screaming pleas drifting in and out as the last bit of consciousness Tsuna possessed, Gokudera took up forefront in his sadness. That poor man knew about loss too well. He was so loyal and so easily hurt, just the thought of what he had planned had made Tsuna cringe in the knowledge that it would hurt his Right-hand-man the most. He wished he'd been able to move his hands, that his shoulder joint hadn't been pulverized by a stray bullet, so that in his last moments he may have been able to pull his hysterical Storm into a light embrace, or hold his hand and tell him to '_please wait, because everything will be okay soon_'.

Dino, his 'older brother' and fellow Mafia Boss would be a bit dangerous. Dino had seen the many dark things in the world, and at some levels it affected him. Tsuna hoped that he could realize it was best for the world to hold himself together and fight harder now then he had ever needed to before.

And then, Reborn. Well, that unreal, crazed, psychotic home tutor of his... He'd be seeing him around sooner or later.

And so his world was almost gone, the blackness consuming his mind turning lighter until it was a fuzzy shimmer of bright colors. He felt warm now, and weightless, though in reality he was most likely surrounded by medical teams who could only stand by at a loss as the machine at his side let out a flat digital tone; long and ceaseless.

So Tsuna felt himself leave that world, thoughts of nothing but his precious people. The ones he loved more then anything.

His family.

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**Final Chapter. I hope you enjoyed the series! Thank you for all the reviews and faves!**

**-Rae  
**


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